


Fluffy requests from readers

by Lu_undy



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Spice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:33:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 107
Words: 208,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24244321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lu_undy/pseuds/Lu_undy
Summary: Here are requests sent to me by people who kindly enough read and liked my previous Sniper/Spy works. More Sniper/Spy for you guys! :)
Relationships: Sniper/Spy (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 64
Kudos: 281





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Request #1:
> 
> "spy has strength to lift sniper yeah?
> 
> mundy doesn't admit it, but he likes the feeling of being carried
> 
> not much people could do that because he's a big man so spy, a man of shorter stature, surprised him all the more
> 
> what i'm getting at here is that, spy took the chance to spin mundy while carrying him in the air, and sniper's just laughing so hard while he's latched onto spy, and suddenly the frenchman joins in the laughter, snorting along with him."

Spy was walking back and forth, like a panther in a cage, impatient. 

He was worried for his lover, his father exactly. Sniper had had news that his father was ill and gone to hospital a few days ago. He was due to be operated that day and for the past few days, the poor Australian had had a hard time eating and sleeping. He would sleep his nights holding on the Frenchman like he would dear life itself. 

Sniper had driven to the nearest public phone and had been gone for more than two hours, leaving Spy home alone.

The Frenchman paced the room. He was maskless, his shirt was half open, his tie had gone and the more he was walking, the more worried he got. 

_ Back, forth, back, forth… _

The door knocked and he pricked his ears. 

"Spook! It's me!"

The Frenchman leapt at the door and slammed the door open. 

"So?!"

"It's nothin' important, he's gonna make it!"

"Excellent! I'm delighted!"

"Ahahahha!" 

Sniper threw his arms around his lover and Spy hugged him dearly. They both laughed, as a tension release for the past few days. 

The Frenchman was so delighted that he lifted his lover and spun his around. Sniper was taken aback, how a man shorter than him could lift him off the ground that way? 

But no time to question anything, the euphoria of the moment made him just cling on to his lover harder and laugh louder while the Frenchman caught his breath in his short and adorable usual snorts… 

When his feet touched the ground again, Sniper slid his hands along Spy's face and pulled his up to his height to leave a long, passionate kiss. 

The Frenchman pushed himself to the tip of his toes, his arms still around his lover's sides. 

"I love ya. And I love it when you carry me. It… It just feels… I feel…"

"You feel like you should." Spy finished Sniper's sentence. "Now, come here, you need to tell me everything!" 

Spy took his lover by the hand and dragged him to the sofa. The Australian saw that he had prepared some bits to nibble on, but the one he preferred wasn't on the table. It was on the sofa, and his shirt was  _ only _ half open. 


	2. A bubble bath ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "How about a cute bubble bath fic? Sniper loves it when Spy washes his hair, and how he scrubs and massages his scalp. It just feels so nice !! 
> 
> And maybe they also have a bubble fight, and make hair and beards out of bubbles. Of course Sniper is the first to start it, and spy chides him for being childish but quickly gives in to the silliness :3"

* * *

"Spook, that's nonsense only rich city folks believe in…"

"Then it doesn't cost anything to try, non?"

Sniper and Spy were on the sofa in the Frenchman's living room. The Frenchman thought that his lover was slightly tense and the Australian confirmed.

"You will see, it will work wonders and will help you relax. I can promise you it will. And you won't have to do anything, _I_ will take care of everything."

"What if it doesn't work?" Sniper asked. 

"Then…" Spy straddled his lover's thighs and looked down at him. He laid his hands on Sniper's shoulders. "You may ask me whatever you want tonight." 

Sniper's eyebrows jumped. 

"Anythin'?" He repeated. 

"Anything you want, there is no trick from me."

"Even stuff you said no to before?" 

"When have I ever refused anything from you?" Spy asked, tilting his head on the side. 

"Ha, that's true, you never do… Alroight then, I'll try." 

"Good. Let me prepare everything." 

Spy walked off his lover and went to the bathroom.

"Oi! What am I s'pposed to do?!"

"Wait there for a minute, I will let you know." The Frenchman answered from the bathroom, with a slight echo.

"Alroight…" 

Sniper heard the water run.

Waiting was something the Australian was gifted for. And that helped a lot in his line of work, of course. He could stay somewhere and not move for hours on end without losing his patience or his focus. He just kept his thoughts busy in the intimacy of his own mind.

Maybe that explained why he was solitary. He didn't need anyone else to feel whole, until recently that is. Spy made his heart and his life flip upside down. And it was a lot to take in. 

Sniper had talked about it to Spy. He had struggled to find the energy for it but he finally managed. And the Frenchman didn't mock him, he took him very seriously. 

"You need to relax. A relationship is something _we_ build. You should not feel like it's a burden to you, as I do not feel that it is a burden to me." He had paused and looked Sniper in the eye. "Though I am glad you talk to me about this, _mon amour._ There is absolutely nothing I would hate more than you not telling me any worries you might have, especially when I am involved in their cause."

"I, uh… I didn't know if I should tell you but now I feel much lighter. Thanks, Spook."

"Non, I thank you."

The sound of the bathroom door opening again broke Sniper's daydream. 

_"Mon coeur?"_

The Australian was now used to it, whenever Spy asked a short question in French and in words he didn't understand, it was usually a way to address him. 

"You callin' me?"

"Who else would I call _'my heart'?"_

"Guess I should be the one askin' that…" Sniper mumbled to himself. 

"Please come, it is ready."

"Alroight." 

As Sniper got to the bathroom door, Spy exited and closed it behind him. He stood between his lover and what he had prepared for him. The Frenchman put his hands on his lover's chest. 

"Before you go in. Let me do something." 

Spy raised his hands. One took the hat and the other the glasses. 

"Oi! What are you…?"

The sleeveless jacket fell to the floor and the Frenchman pushed himself to the tip of his toes before taking Sniper by his lips. Like a reflex, the Australian locked his hands on Spy's sides. The latter opened the door behind him again and pulled on his lips. The Australian followed until a smell made him open his eyes. 

"Oh, wow…" 

Spy had prepared a bubble bath for his lover and it smelled of vanilla.

"Cheers, luv'." 

Spy smiled sweetly. 

"My pleasure. Now, don't let me strip you naked and do it yourself before slipping in. I shall leave the flat and let you relax." 

"Oh…" There was a slight yet very audible disappointment when Sniper heard that he would be alone. But Spy knew better about this "bubble bath" business and maybe one enjoys it better on one's own. 

Sniper nodded. 

"Ok, will do. Thank a lot for preparin' everything. It smells amazing." 

"You're welcome. Oh and when you get in, close your eyes, it will definitely help."

By the way that his tall companion nodded, Spy knew that Sniper would do it. He left a last quick peck on his lips and left the bathroom. 

Sniper sighed and turned to look at the bath. 

"Well, here comes nothin'..." 

He removed the rest of his clothes and as he slipped in, he heard the door being shut. He froze for a second but then realised he was alone with himself. 

Sniper let himself slowly sink below the water. Only his head was above the level of the water and his feet at the end of the bath. After all, the man had absurdly long legs… 

He listened to the silence and following his lover's advice, he closed his eyes. The Australian forgot the concept of time itself as little by little, he let the water carry the weight of his body. He felt the occasional twitch of a muscle, ultimate act of rebellion before it surrendered to the calm. 

_"Mundy…"_

Sniper smiled. He knew he was dreaming it but that didn't prevent him from enjoying himself. It was a soft murmur, between infinite layer of bubbles surrounding him and through the waves of vanilla. And what a whisper…! He knew that accent that flattened the vowels and disrespected the diphtongues. It was the accent that the people of one very specific country had, a country where romance was the first language, and sexy the second…

_"Mundy, détends-toi mon amour…"_

[ _Mundy, relax my love…]_

He only understood "Mundy" and "my love", but his heart had swollen in his chest. 

"Hmm…" He hummed in a satisfied way. 

Mundy opened his eyes and saw a bubble rise from the surface of the water, it floated up and towards him until it landed on the tip of his nose. 

He opened round eyes and crossed them to see it better. 

"You look like a kitten." 

Out of a thin cloud of smoke, the silhouette of Spy appeared, like the ending of a magic trick. 

"Spook?! What the hell are you doin' here?!" 

Mundy realised his lover was crouching next to the bathtub, wearing a bathrobe and judging by the bit of his chest he could see, he was at least half naked underneath. 

The Frenchman stood up and let the bathrobe slide down to the floor. Well, so much for being prude…

Spy put one foot in the water, as delicately as if he was made of paper. Without asking anything, he slowly sat between his lover's legs, lying back on his chest. 

"I thought you were gone?"

"And leave you alone in a bubble bath? I would rather die Bushman."

Sniper slid his arms around his lover's sides and held him close. 

"And I do believe I can contribute to relaxing you." 

The Australian left a kiss on his lover's temple. 

"I'm so glad you joined, luv'... I-I was missin' you." 

Sniper took a bubble and put it on the Frenchman's nose.

"Oh, Mundy…"

"Oi, you did it to me!" 

"Oui but I did it _seductively._ " 

"Oh, sorry, Mister, let me try again…"

Mundy took a handful of bubbles and decorated his lover with them all around. He put one on each of his ears…

"Bushman…"

One more on his nose. 

"Sniper…"

And the rest of them were spread on the special intelligence expert's head. 

"Mon amour… Are you happy now?"

"Cheer up, you look pretty!" 

" _Pretty?!"_ Spy sounded offended. "I used to look irresistible and now I got degraded to simply _pretty…_ I hate you."

"No, ye don't, you bloody love me!" 

Spy sighed but smiled. 

"I don't know if I'm more pleased that you make me feel half my life younger or more offended for being called pretty…"

"You can be both, you're adorable when you're offended. You pull up yer nose and the wrinkles there are just cute."

Spy sighed again. 

"But eh, thanks for coming with me."

The Frenchman laid back on his lover's chest.

"Mundy, trust me, for nothing in the world I would miss feeling your skin against mine, especially in a setting like this, underwater, your touch setting my whole body ablaze…"

"How come…?"

Spy raised an eyebrow. 

"How come everythin' you bloody say just…"

"Turns you on?" Spy finished his lover's sentence and Sniper tensed. 

The Frenchman felt it and let his fingers carress Mundy's thigh underwater. The Australian felt the touch and it tickled him. 

"Ooh… Spy…" He purred. 

"Lucien."

"Whot?" 

"My name. It seems unfair to proceed if you can see my face but don't know my name."

"It's beautiful." 

"Merci, I will tell you about another beautiful thing…" 

Spy turned to face his lover. He straddled his thighs and sat on his upper thighs. Mundy tensed again. He could feel his lover's intimacy against his. The Frenchman didn't seem to mind at all! 

Lucien cupped his lover's face and stared in his eyes. 

"Your eyes, Mundy, and everything that you are and that you do. Your shyness and awkwardness, all those things that make you _you_. I love you." 

The Frenchman curved his back until his lips met with his lover's. Sniper's head was pulled upward and the Australian had no choice but to let his lover lead the dance of his lips.


	3. I'll see ya, luv'!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Lucien thinks Mundy went out hunting  
> So, natrualy Lu is being dramatic about being alone.   
> And at the end Mundy opens the door and says, "I was bird watching for half an hour, in our porch.""

* * *

"Hey, luv'."

"Mon amour."

[My love.]

Mundy, former Sniper, had exited the shower, as his still damp hair proved, and found his lover in the kitchen, still in a dressing gown, having breakfast. He kissed him on his head and the Frenchman purred happily before taking a seat next to him. 

It was early in the morning still and the birds were chirping happily outside. On that spring day, nature itself was showing its best colours and both ex-mercenaries could see them through the windows. Their garden was bright green and their flowers were blossoming beautifully. 

Mundy wanted to help himself to some coffee but realised that Lucien, the former Spy, had already prepared his mug. 

"Oh, thanks mate."

"You're welcome…" Lucien finished chewing on his toast. "Do you have any plans today?" 

As he asked, the Frenchman realised his lover's eyes were riveted on the window. He could almost see the colours of spring on Mundy's irises, in bright colours, as the sun was shining splendidly.

"Not much… I'll go out for a bit I think. Birds are out, it's nice."

Lucien half-smiled as he sipped on his coffee. He had lived with his lover long enough now to understand that he meant that he would go hunting. 

"You?" Mundy asked. 

"The house needs cleaning here and there and it wouldn't hurt to tidy up the bedroom. We made such a mess last night…"

Mundy's eyes went from the window to his lover's and blushed. 

"Ah, yeah, uh, sorry…" 

"Don't apologise…" Lucien bent on his side to lean on the Australian. "You are as guilty as I am and we had such a good time."

"Yeah, maybe, but still. I should be helpin' you around the house before I go then." 

"Non, it is fine. You go out,  _ mon beau,  _ and I stay inside and get busy."

[My handsome one]

"You sure?" Mundy insisted, wrapping an arm around his lover.

"Hmm…" Lucien hummed happily as the touch of the Australian diffused a sweet warmth through him. "Oui, go ahead, have your fun."

"Roight, thanks, luv'." Mundy gulped down the rest of his coffee and finished his toast equally fast. "I'd better be going then, before the mornin' goes away." 

Lucien raised his head to his lover who took on the hint and pressed his lips on the Frenchman's before standing up. He released his embrace on his lover and exited the room. 

The former Spy heard the French window open and shut in the living room and sighed as he now found himself alone, in a house that was too big for just himself. 

Lucien finished his breakfast and cleared the table, he washed the dishes in silence, the sound of the water running almost echoing on the walls of his empty kitchen. Empty? Well, not exactly as long as he himself was there, but as a famous French poet once wrote,  _ Un être vous manque et tout est dépeuplé. _ You miss a single being and everything is empty. Never had that verse made more sense. 

Lucien wiped his hands and went to the bedroom. On his way there, he grabbed some new bedsheets. He made his choice for grey and blue ones. When he arrived, he saw the duvet still undone and could almost see himself and his lover again, in the intimacy that the night gave them, on the bed under the cover, making love as he rarely did before to any other man… 

The Frenchman stripped the bed off the sheets as he thought to himself. Mundy was the one man he had chosen to live his life, or what was left of it, with. One of the infinite reasons for that was the passion that they had for each other and it particularly showed in the intimate moments that they shared. 

Lucien sighed as he took his lover's pillow. He stared at it for a moment. The Frenchman looked at the door and through the window. No one. He hugged the pillow and inhaled deeply. It smelled of Mundy, with a trace of his atrociously cheap cologne that the Frenchman wouldn't change for anything in the world. He smiled, albeit with eyebrows that betrayed his slight distress and changed the pillowcase. 

Why the distress? Because his other half wasn't there with him. He had gone God knew where to hunt and meanwhile, the old Frenchman was home alone with his thoughts and his longing, that he would never dare show his lover. He loved him too dearly to display any negative feeling and cause his Mundy to worry. Non. He would do as he always did, and keep it all to himself.

Lucien missed him, the Australian, the tall man with the ridiculous sideburns, the man that could make his heart melt with as much as a smile, or the delicateness of his lagoon blue eyes laid upon himself. He missed him a lot yet he wouldn't say it and he tried to comfort himself in the idea that even if he was physically far away from him, Mundy's heart was always connected to his, somehow.

It stung nonetheless. Lucien wasn't a man who would show much of what he felt, maybe out of professional habit too, but he could hardly bear the absence of the man whom he didn't have that much left to spend with. Maybe he was being too dramatic about it. Maybe. Mundy's life crossed his path unfortunately quite late; so late in fact that the Frenchman's hair had turned grey on his front and his temples by then. 

Lucien dragged his feet to the bathroom. Now all the things that signed for Mundy's presence in his life, also signed for his immediate absence and the sun and green of spring wasn't enough for the Frenchman to smile. He took his blue toothbrush and the green one taunted him. As he brushed his teeth, his eyes went from one thing to the next. His towel, his cologne, his comb… 

The Frenchman spat in the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. 

" _ Mundy, reviens…" _

_ [Mundy, come back…] _

The door opened. 

"Hey, luv'...!"

"You are back?!" 

"Yeah, why d'you sound so surprised?"

"I thought you were gone hunting and it would take you the day!"

"What the hell are you talkin' about? I was bird-watchin' on the bloody porch!"

"What?! But-but… I was there thinking you had left me for the entire day!" 

Mundy put his hands on his lover's sides, on his waist. 

"I wouldn't leave for the day without you, and just like that!" 

"Oh mon Dieu…" 

Seeing that much distress in his beloved Frenchman surprised Mundy. He hugged his lover and pulled his head against his chest. He know that if Lucien wasn't that prude with his body, he was very much so with his feelings and if the Frenchman showed even a hint of his worries, that meant he had worried quite badly. 

"You missed me, eh…?" 

Lucien's head was buried in his lover's chest. He remained mute. Mundy thought that he was being over dramatic, but oh how it got to him…! To think that a man as gorgeous as Lucien could miss him that much made him feel oh so loved.

"Yeah, you did. You sentimental bastard…" 

"But I love you and I thought you-"

"Sshhh… C'mere, someone needs some cuddlin'..." 

  
  



	4. Garden reminiscence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "while theyre walking around a garden, mundy found a kind of a flower. perhaps it reminded him of their pasts together, perhaps it's lucien's favorite flower that hits him deeply. talked about it for a mo, and mundy has an idea to put flowers on lucien's hair bc he thought it'll be cute.
> 
> twas for a cheap cheering up attempt but surely its easy to say how lucien is shy ehough to not be able to admit he really liked it, only flushed cheeks and a few chuckles"

* * *

The weather had been amazing for the past few days. The sun shone splendidly, revealing the wide spectrum of wavelengths so pleasing to the eye that the layman calls colours. And they were vibrant, the greens of the grass and foliage, the whites of the jasmin, the yellow of the daffodils, the fushia of the hibiscus…  
  
Mundy and Lucien had taken the opportunity of such a pleasant weather to go and stroll in a public park. It’s not in their little garden that they would see such a wide variety of floral species, even though they had made it a point to take the best care of their small vegetal paradise.

Mundy had left Lucien smoking on one of the bridges that overlooked the shy stream of water. Something had caught his eyes and after a tap on his lover’s shoulder, he headed in the direction of that flower that beckoned him.

The Australian walked for one minute, maybe two, and stopped. The flower he had seen from far away had a special meaning. He crouched down to smell it. It didn’t have any distinctive scent, apart from the usual classic one a fresh plant would have. 

He looked left and right and saw that no one was watching. He plucked the flower. 

"Sir?"

Mundy's blood froze. Ah! He had made sure no one was watching! He slowly turned and put a hand on his chest. 

"Crickey, you scared me!" 

Lucien was extending a hand towards his now blushing lover. Mundy took it and stood back up. 

"Shall we continue our walk?" The Frenchman asked.

"Yeah, let's find somewhere nice to sit." 

"Fine." 

They continued to follow the narrow paths across the park but unfortunately, they failed to find any free bench. 

"We could still sit on the grass." Mundy said. 

"Oh, non, that will ruin my trousers!" 

"Such a princess you are... C'mere, I show you." 

Lucien followed the Australian. They had gone in a big loop and found themselves walking alongside the river again. 

"There. Now, look…" 

The Frenchman watched as Mundy removed his jacket and laid it on the grass under a weeping willow. 

"Is this ok for her majesty now?" 

"Not ideal, but I guess one has to do with what one is given, hm?" Lucien teased.

“Oh, shut up…!”

Mundy sat down such that his lover would sit between his legs. He leaned back against the weeping willow’s trunk and put his hat down next to him.

“Aren’t we good here, eh?”

“Very comfortable indeed. I didn’t know that Mother Nature’s arms could be so warm…” The Frenchman purred as he felt his lover’s arms close around his sides.

“Why did you leave me alone on the bridge?"

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to. I-I just saw this…”

Mundy retrieved the flower that he had put in his pocket and offered it to his lover. 

“It reminded of… The beginning, y’know, when we were… uh…”

“The beginning of our story, you mean?” Lucien asked.

“Y-yeah.” The Australian hesitantly answered. The blush was getting to his cheeks. "D'you remember when I came to you and uh…"

"Of course I do. You had found the only dandelion that dared grow in the desert."

"Pff, yeah. But I was uh… I mean I couldn't just give it to ya. So I tried to put it in yer locker."

"And of course you failed."

Mundy chuckled. 

"Yeah, yeah I did… So I tried slippin' it in yer pocket during dinner."

"And you failed again. Or maybe not… Do you remember what I did then?" Lucien asked. 

"Yeah, you felt my hand underneath the table and you just… You just took it." 

Lucien smiled in nostalgia. 

"Oui, I did… W-wait, what are you doing to my hair, Mundy?!" 

The Australian had plucked the daisies around him and put them through his lover’s black and grey locks, here and there. 

"N-nothin'...!"

"What are you…-" Lucien put a hand on his head and retrieved one of them. "Oh…" 

"Sorry, I'll stop." 

"Mon amour?"

[My love?]

"I'm really sorry." 

The Australian couldn't see it but the old man had turned as red as a brick. It was childish, but it was innocent and sincere, which was what he loved about Mundy.

"Don't let me interrupt you." 

Mundy's eyebrows jumped but Lucien carried on talking as if he didn't care that his hair looked like a salt and pepper pasture scattered with white and yellow daisies.

"I took your hand to give you a fright at first, thinking that you were trying to pull a prank on me. But you weren't."

"N-nah… I just wanted to give you the only flower I had seen for months."

"And it surprised me. How can a man who respects nature so much commit such a cruel act?"

"Because nothing mattered to me, but to see a genuinely sweet smile from ya." 

Lucien sighed and turned to his lover. He looked right and left and seeing that there was no one around, he pushed himself to kiss Mundy’s lips. 

"We should probably go. People could see us." The Australian suggested.

"Oui. Let us walk back home." 

Both men stood up and Lucien picked the jacket he was sat on up to give it back to Mundy. 

"Thank you for your jacket." 

"It’s nothin'." 

Lucien then handed him his hat back and smirked as he saw his lover's eyes open wide. 

"What've you done to my hat? Since when d'you know how to make... daisy crowns?" 

The Frenchman patted his clothes to make sure no straws of grass were stuck on him. 

"Since you are the most romantic man I know." He answered confidently. 

"Says the French bloke with the daisies in his hair…"


	5. Sniper's discomfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request: "Sniper likes to walk around barefoot, but only when he thinks no one is looking. He's super insecure about his "weird" and "ugly" feet. One day while he's chillin without shoes or socks, and spy comes over for an unexpected visit. He didn't have time to put anything on to cover them. He's super embarassed, but he doesn't say anything because he doesn't want to bring attention to them. Of course, being the observant person he is, Spy has already noticed. Normally be wouldn't have said anything, but Sniper was making it painfully obvious that he was trying to hide his feet. 
> 
> Spy offers him a foot spa, and during the session, the Frenchman finds out that Sniper is extremely insecure and self-conscious. Mostly through his body language and the way he talks about himself (even if he doesn't say it directly). 
> 
> After the session is over, he invites the aussie to his room. They sit on the bed and Spy asks why he is so insecure, which leads to Sniper venting about himself before breaking down sobbing. 
> 
> Spy goes down a list of things he loves about his friend's appearance, emphasizing his words with some sort of physical touch... Starting with the most innocent features, but getting more intimate as it goes on (touching gets a lil spicy). There's a point where Sniper realizes that Spy is subtly expressing that he is in love with him. 
> 
> Idk how this ends but yeah that was my idea."

* * *

"Christ, need some water…" 

The Australian was sitting in the shade of his van, on a rug he had spread on the orange dusty ground of the desert. He liked that proximity with the ground, the earth's very skin. Sniper very much thought that for some things, he felt infinitely closer to an animal than a human being. The way he would treat his natural surroundings would show it, amongst other things. 

The marksman stood up and fetched a bottle of water from his van. He had been sitting there since after lunch, cleaning his rifle and kukri. 

But when he came out of the camper van, he found a man in a shirt and suit trousers neatly sat cross-legged on his worn-out, yellowish carpet. He was giving him his back but Sniper recognised the man in the balaclava. 

"Crickey, Spook, can't you knock on people's door, like normal folks?"

"Pray show me where the door to the shade of your ridiculous dwelling is, then." 

Sniper rolled his eyes up. He could hear the smirk on the other's lips even though he couldn't see it. The Australian sat in front of his guest, on his knees. The position wasn't very pleasant but hopefully the Frenchman wouldn't stay long.

"What are you doin' here? Didn't expect you to come." 

Now that he was facing him, the Australian realised that his friend was wearing a pair of sunglasses with bright yellow frames. The Frenchman on the other hand ever so slightly raised an eyebrow at the sight of his colleague so lightly dressed. Sniper was wearing an old white wifebeater and a pair of grey shorts. 

"And yet you sit with me, which obviously shows that despite what you might let on, you do appreciate my company."

_Clever bastard…_

"Still, doesn't tell me why you came'n see me."

"I was bored."

Sniper raised an eyebrow behind his yellow tinted aviator glasses.

_"Bored?_ You've gone through all yer fancy readin' and all your wine already?" He put his palms on his knees, which were starting to hurt him.

Spy smiled. 

"Not quite. But I wanted to see something else. A change of scenery can't hurt from time to time."

"And of all the people here, you thought that I'd be the one up for some chit-chat?" 

"You have been just so, so far." 

Sniper sighed. 

"So, what does a man with a passion for kangaroos and shooting bullets in people's heads do in this fine afternoon?" Spy asked.

"Cleanin' my things… Rifle and knife."

" _Knife…"_

"Yeah, my knife, y'know the thing that I use to kill people with, not that _thing_ you use to spread butter on people's back…!"

Spy chuckled. 

"I do not use it for such purposes, nor would I call your _kukri_ a knife."

"Oi! Look at this!" Sniper pointed at it on the rug. "That's a proper knife, it's got a big blade and it can slice through most things!"

The Frenchman snickered and flicked his knife out of his trousers pocket. He laid it flat in his gloved hand and extended it towards his colleague. 

That's when Sniper noticed that Spy had come to him without his tie and he had even opened the first two buttons of his shirt. Although to be fair, the heat was very strong and Sniper thought it was a miracle that his colleague still bore the long sleeved shirt, the balaclava and the gloves…! 

"Mine's much bigger." Sniper said, coming back to the blades.

His eyes went from his friend's short blade to his face. Spy had tilted his head on the side, raised a malicious eyebrow and gave a devilish grin. 

"Bushman, if I may, it isn't always about the size…"

Spy saw his colleague frown for an instant before the innuendo struck him. 

"Bloody hell, Spook…!"

"You were the one to mention it!" 

Sniper blushed and he felt it again, the pain on his knees from kneeling. Spy had of course noticed it and was waiting for his friend to get more comfortable. If at first the Frenchman thought that Sniper was not at ease with his company, he quickly ruled it out. Non. Sniper was enjoying the discussion with his colleague. Something _else_ was forcing him to stay in this awkward position that obviously hurt him. But Spy wouldn't mention anything. Patience would answer his curiosity. 

"I have brought some cigarettes. Would you care for one?" 

"Y-yeah, why not…? Uhm, just a minute, I'll bring somethin' to drink along." 

"Perfect." 

Sniper stood up and disappeared in his van. Shortly after, he reappeared. Spy looked up at him. The Australian was holding two bottles of beer in his hand and sat down, cross-legged this time. As he opened the bottles, Spy noticed that his friend was wearing a pair of socks. 

_A wifebeater, a pair of shorts and… socks?_

Non, the Frenchman felt it: something was wrong. Even though he knew his friend's sense of fashion left a great deal to be desired, it was too hot for Sniper to wear socks. 

"Here's yer beer, Spook."

"And your cigarette."

"Thanks mate!"

"The pleasure is mine." 

They tipped their beers and took a sip. 

"I brought this cup for an ashtray. Don't you dare throw the ash and toss yer cigarette butt out in the desert!"

Spy raised an eyebrow.

"It was never my intention. But thank you."

The Frenchman knew the respect Sniper had for the beauty of Mother Nature.

The conversation went on between the laughters from both parts and the usual banter. 

"Do you mind if I remove my shoes?" The Frenchman asked.

"I mind more that you might be suffocatin' under yer mask…!" 

Spy undid the laces of his shoes and removed them, putting them neatly outside of the rug. Sniper realised he was wearing those weird socks that he thought only ladies who had ballet flats would put on. His own mother certainly did. The Frenchman removed his socks too and put them each in the corresponding shoe. 

"The heat is indeed quite intense." 

"Not the same weather as in Paris, eh?" 

Spy rolled up his sleeves.

"Non indeed, even though I don't come from the capital city, thank God." 

The Frenchman sat one leg laid down on the rug and the other folded, his forearm resting on his knee, like a model for a painting, the cigarette smoke whirling softly in front of him. 

"Where d'you come from then?”

"The South-West of France, where vines cover the plains and the hills like green hair neatly combed in straight lines, sprinkled with dark violet come the time of _vendange."_

Sniper raised an eyebrow. 

"The what, sorry?"

"The _vendange_ , it is the term we use for the harvest of grapes specifically. I do not believe it has an equivalent in English."

"Well, if it exists I don't know it, so I'll trust you." 

"Flattering." Spy answered with a smile before blowing the smoke of his cigarette in an elegant ring above his head. 

"W-what?"

"You trust me, I find it flattering."

"Oi, don't get any funny ideas, eh!"

"Oh but why would I? We have been spending the most exquisite afternoon together, you cleaning your uhm… _tools_ -"

"Still don't wanna call it a knife, eh?"

"Cutting my tongue would be a more favourable option."

"Oh, quit yer drama!"

They both laughed and the Frenchman resumed his speech.

"But yes, as I was saying, we are enjoying a cold beer in the shade, in a most rustic decor…" Spy removed his gloves and let his fingers brush the surface of the washed-out carpet he was laying on. "I even took the liberty of making myself more comfortable in front of you, and you _trust_ me."

The Frenchman snickered and raised an index finger. 

"Non, Sniper, truly, we must exercise the most acute precaution, we might be developing what the layman might call _friendship."_

"What?! Me?! Friends with you?!" Sniper stuck his tongue out. "Bloody disgustin', mate, I'm telling you…!"

"Oh, oui, absolutely loathsome, shocking and in all ways vulgar!" 

They both laughed. 

"Although, to be fair Spook, you're roight. You don't bother me much actually. I-I quite like chattin' with you." 

"Ooh, Monsieur Sniper, are we indeed falling in the trap of friendship with the team's handsome rogue in a suit?" 

Spy wiggled his eyebrows above the sunglasses' frame. Sniper blushed and shrugged. 

"Oh boy, we just might, eh! But I could say the same about you. How did you say it again…? Ah yeah, _Mister Spy, are we falling in the trap of friendship with the team's…_ uh… If you're a handsome rogue, what am I then?"

"A kangaroo, obviously."

"Whot?! No I'm not!"

"Or a koala." 

"Spook…!"

The Frenchman chortled and caught his breath in short snorts. 

"My apologies, non it is true. In reality, you are much closer to _a kitten._ " 

"I'm sorry, what? Did you just say _a kitten?"_

Spy nodded. 

"Oui."

"Why?"

"May I make the mood a bit more serious, Sniper?" 

The Australian raised an eyebrow. They both crushed their cigarette ends in the ashtray and Spy sat up, facing his friend.

"May I ask why the pair of socks?"

Sniper's smile vanished.

"It is very hot and your attire shows that you have no problem showing parts of yourself. Yet you added a pair of socks after you got tired of sitting on your knees. I am curious as to why."

Sniper lowered his head.

"Surely it isn't for reasons of fashion either. And if it's neither for comfort nor for good looks, then there is something else."

"Alright, Spy, I-I think you should go."

The Frenchman's eyebrows jumped but he didn't want to offend his friend. 

"My apologies. Thank you for the beer and the company." Spy put his socks and his shoes back on. "I shall see you later.'

He left the Australian without adding a word. 

These events happened on a Sunday and during the week that followed, Sniper and Spy resumed their very formal and efficient communication on the battlefield. The Frenchman had guessed why his friend didn't want to stay barefoot and had been thinking of a way to possibly help him on that. The next Saturday, Sniper found a letter stuck on his van's door. 

"What's that…?"

The Australian unstuck it and looked at it first without reading. The paper was thick and slightly tinted in a very light shade of red. What's more, the words were written in black ink and in cursive letters with what looked to be a fountain pen. The handwriting was very soothing to the eye, it looked like it came from another century altogether.

Sniper sighed. All those clues signed for the author of the note. He nonetheless read its content.

"Mon cher Sniper, [My dear Sniper]

I would like you to join me in my car in about half an hour. I have something for you. 

Signed: Ton Espion." [Your Spy.]

The Australian took the paper to his nose and smelled. Even the Frenchman's cologne was there… He looked left and right. Should he accept, should he not? And what does all that French mean? 

Sniper's guess was that the beginning was the equivalent of "Dear Sniper" and in the end it must have been "The Spy", or something like that.

He put the note in his pocket and fell deep in thought. Even if he wanted to join Spy, where the hell would he find his car? He'd never seen it, he didn't even know Spy owned a car…

Sniper looked around him and apart from the building of the base and his van, there wasn't anything else around. 

"How the hell…? And where…?" 

The Australian felt lost until he heard a vehicle. He looked on the road and saw a bright red Italian car stop there. The tinted window melted down to reveal the masked face of the Frenchman wearing a pair of sunglasses with black frames this time. He was signalling Sniper to get in. The Australian got closer. 

"Come on, Bushman. Don't make me open the door for you." 

"Roight, roight." 

Sniper sat down next to his colleague and Spy waited for him to fasten his seatbelt before pushing his foot on the gas pedal. Silence fell in the car. 

"Where're we goin'?"

"You will see."

"Hm."

Silence again. 

"Why are you takin' _me_ of all people?"

Sniper looked at his friend. He was smiling. 

"Consider this a gift from a friend. And if it is too much to ask, then just see it as a way to ask for forgiveness for the other day." 

"Bah, that's nothin'. No need to apologise."

"Then, it is a gift from a friend, or someone who maybe wants to become one of yours."

"What're you talkin' about? O'course you're my friend. You might as well be the only one I have here!"

Sniper didn't see the slight blush on Spy's cheeks. 

"I am delighted to hear you say so." 

When the Frenchman parked the car, Sniper looked up. 

"You took me to a swimming pool? I don't have any swimmin' stuff!"

"Don't be ridiculous. It's no swimming pool. Follow me." 

Spy retrieved a bag from his car's boot and walked towards a white and blue building. His friend closely followed him. Upon entering, the smell of chlorine hit him and the pressure was high. He felt the humidity too. 

"You said it wouldn't be a-"

Spy cut his friend and talked to the receptionist. After a few minutes, the Frenchman turned his heels and walked to a nearby corridor. 

“Bushman?”

“Y-yeah, roight, sorry…”

Both men arrived in what looked like a changing room. Sniper looked left and right before whispering.

“Spy, look, you told me it wouldn’t be a swimming pool but it really smells of chlorine and-”

“Why are you whispering? There is no one else around us. Now, go in that booth…” Spy opened the black leather bag he had taken with him. “Here, get undressed and wear this towel around your waist. I will see you in a minute.”

The Frenchman patted his friend’s shoulder and disappeared in the next booth.

Sniper locked himself in.

_Bugger…_

The Australian started undressing and took off his shoes. His hat and glasses were put neatly on the small bench. He removed his top and trousers. His underwear was no problem to slip out. Sniper looked down at his feet.

_Bugger._

He heard the Frenchman open the door to the next changing booth.

“Everything alright, Sniper?”

“Uh, y-yeah, yeah, just a second more…”

The Australian panicked and started to sweat heavily. There was one thing he was atrociously uncomfortable about: his feet. That was the reason why he had gone to wear a pair of socks when Spy had come to see him the past weekend, and the reason why he had knelt down in front of him. That way, the Frenchman wouldn’t have to bear the sight of Sniper’s hideous feet. But now he was forced to strip naked. Forced? What the hell? No!

Sniper put the towel away and dressed up again. In his rush, the collar of his polo shirt was still messy. He flung the cabin’s door open. 

“Spy, I’m going back to the base.” 

He hadn’t seen the Frenchman sitting on a nearby bench. Spy jumped at him and took his arm to hold him back.

“Sniper!”

The Australian spun on his heels and faced the naked Frenchman, only covered by the towel. He couldn’t help but let his eyes run from his balaclava down to his chest, his waist and his thin legs.

“No! You can’t-!” Sniper realised he was speaking quite loud and decided to tone his voice down mid-sentence. “I don’t want to do this, whatever it is.”

“I want to help you, Sniper. I am not letting you leave.”

“What?” Sniper turned as red as a brick and looked nervously left and right, sweat beading from his brow. What would people say if they saw the scene? He looked over his shoulder to the door, gritting his teeth.

Spy took his friend by his collar, but not in a threatening way. He took the step that separated them and raised his head to Sniper who was about a foot taller than him. 

“Sniper, look, I know why you are uncomfortable. But we can make this all change.”

“You don’t know anything about me.” Sniper answered, trying to put any distance between the clear icy eyes looking up to him and his poor self.

“Non, I do. Do not take me for an idiot-mh!”

Sniper heard the click of a door and his first reflex was to push a hand on the Frenchman’s mouth and push the both of them in the same booth before locking the fragile door. Spy raised an eyebrow and looked up at the man who was preventing him from speaking. He was sweating and his breath was short and fast. Sniper was terrified. When he was sure that it wasn’t anything to worry about, he released his hand on Spy’s mouth.

“Go on, then, tell me why I don’t want to stay, eh?” Sniper whispered, hoping no one would see two pairs of feet under the booth and get any ideas.

“Sniper, stop whispering. This is ridiculous, we are alone.”

“Yeah but what if someone comes?”

“No one will.”

“How can you bloody know?”

“I privatised the whole place for you.” 

The Australian froze.

“Ya did what?”

"You heard me. Sniper, this is a spa. I want you to be confident about yourself, you're a grown man, and a handsome one at that. Behave like it."

Words failed the Australian and after a short period of silence, Spy continued.

"I know what causes you to be this scared but no one here will judge you, especially not me. And I won't let anyone know about today, about last week and about the good times that we spend together in general."

Sniper turned to face another way. Spy put his index below his chin and pulled his face back. The booth was narrow so the Australian didn't have many options to escape Spy's gaze.

"I am a spy after all, secrets are my trade." 

"Lyin' too." 

Spy's face and manners remained unfazed and comforting.

"Do you really think I would privatise an entire establishment like this for anyone?"

Sniper closed his eyes and sat on the narrow bench. He put his hat and glasses away, and hid his face in his hands. 

"I can't do it, I-I'm sorry."

Spy crouched down on the floor and put his hands on his friend's arms. 

"Of course you can. Look, I can leave you entirely alone if you prefer." 

The Frenchman heard a sniff, then a second one. 

"Sniper…?" 

"I'm sorry, you paid all this and-and I can't make it worth yer money…"

"I couldn't care less about the money. It's _you_ I care about." 

More sniffs and Sniper's breath broke out of sync. Spy brushed his friend's arms down to his forearms and stopped at his wrists. He pulled them off his face and saw, despite the relative darkness of the booth, that two glistening trails had appeared on his friend's cheeks. 

Sniper had closed his eyes. He didn't want Spy to see him like that. 

"You must think I'm ridiculous."

"Non, not at all. I just think that you forget what you are sometimes. You see yourself as a solitary man, but you don't see the one with a mask holding a hand out to help you. You see yourself as clumsy as a child in a grown man's body, a body it doesn't really belong to, like a hand in a glove that is too big for it. But all that is very wrong." 

Spy put a hand on Sniper's cheek and wiped a tear away. 

"Do you still have the letter that I left on your door?" 

Sniper nodded and took it out of his pocket. 

"Read it to me." 

"Spy…"

"Please." 

Sniper wiped his face with the back of his hands and unfolded the piece of paper. 

"I-I can't read the beginning. It's in French." 

" _Mon cher Sniper._ Do you know what it means?" 

The Australian shook his head. 

"Somethin' like 'dear Sniper' I guess."

"Almost. You didn't translate the first and most important word, _mon._ It means _my._ I wrote _my dear Sniper._ "

The tall man was confused and frowned. 

"What does it say in the end, the bit you wrote in French?" He asked. 

" _Ton Espion._ It means _your Spy."_

Sniper raised his eye to his friend.

"Why?" 

Spy smiled and put his hand on Sniper's cheek again to wipe a tear presumably.

"Because I care about your adorable shy self more than I can admit."

Sniper tilted his head in Spy's hand and closed his eyes. More tears rolled in silence. 

"Now, please, _mon cher Sniper_ , let me help you. I promise you will not regret it." 

Spy handed Sniper his towel again and stared in his eyes. When the Australian opened his eyes again, he saw the most beautiful irises on Earth riveted on his. 

"Please?" 

Sniper took the towel and nodded in silence. Spy smiled at him and stood up. He turned his back to exit the narrow booth when he felt a hand on his shoulder, blocking him. He turned to face Sniper again. 

"What is it-oh…" 

The Australian held the almost naked Frenchman in a dear embrace. 

" _Thank you so much… I-I'm sorry to be like this…"_

Spy smiled and wrapped his arms around his friend. 

"Do not apologise, it is nothing. And again, you don't have to whisper." 

_"I-I know… I just…"_

"It's fine, I understand."

Sniper freed Spy and chuckled nervously. 

"Uhm, I'm-I'm sorry…" 

"Stop apologising, _mon beau."_

Spy gave Sniper a last smile before exiting the booth. The Australian undressed and about half-way through, the Frenchman interrupted him. 

"Sniper?" 

"Y-yeah?" 

"Here, take this too." 

The Australian took whatever his friend was handing him over the door. 

A few moments later, Sniper opened the booth's door and shyly exited. The Frenchman was nowhere to be seen. 

"Spy?" 

"Over here, Sniper." 

The Australian headed in the direction where his friend's voice had resounded. He looked left and right. 

"Spook, where are you?"

"Over here, in front of you." 

Sniper squinted. There was a room in front of him. Its door and front wall were in glass and the rest were wooden. It was pitch dark and very foggy inside. 

"You in there?" 

"Oui, push the door and come in." 

Sniper obeyed and was surprised. The fog was so thick and hot, it almost suffocated him and he coughed. 

"Where the hell're you…?"

He felt a hand take his and pull him. 

"Just here. Take a seat." 

Sniper let his friend guide him.

"What the hell's this?" 

"A hammam. The steam opens the pores of you skin and relaxes you. Sit back and enjoy the citrus scent in the air, Sniper."

"Why are there no lights?"

"For you and me. You don't want me to see you so I asked for the lights to be off in most of the rooms." 

"You kiddin'?"

"Do I usually make jokes and laugh?" 

Sniper smiled. 

"With me, yeah." 

Spy chuckled.

"Oui, but it's different with you. Non, of course I am not joking. I want you to be at ease and the most comfortable possible, _mon beau._ " 

"Thanks." 

"Don't mention it." 

"Also, what's that mean?"

"What?"

_"Mon beau?"_ Sniper twisted the pronunciation a bit, not knowing that the Frenchman bit his lip when he heard it, his ears going hot. 

"One can translate it into _'My handsome one'._ " 

Sniper's turn to blush… 

"W-well…" 

The Australian lowered his head. And let his hands on the bench he was sitting on. It was wooden by the touch of it. He sat back and realised that the surface on which he was resting was also wooden. 

"So what's this _hammam_ business? I guess you know everythin' about it?" 

In the darkness, Sniper couldn't see his friend was leaning back and his eyes were closed. He smiled. 

"That would be horrendously pretentious of me to say, but as you point out…" 

The conversation went on and on about the origins of the hammam, where it was still a very usual tradition.

"Spook?" 

"Oui?" 

"Can I just say…? Uhm… I, I mean, oh bugger I'm doin' it again…"

"What? Something is wrong?" Spy asked, worried. 

"No, nah, it's just sometimes I can't speak. Words are hard."

"Oh, I can only agree with you. English words sometimes don't come to my mind as fast as I would want them to."

"Yeah well, it's not your native language, that's why." 

"Neither is it yours."

"Whot? 'course it is!"

"Is it not kangaroo?"

Sniper could hear the smirk in his friend's voice. 

"Not again… Spook!"

"Or koala maybe?" 

"Spy… Please…"

The Frenchman chuckled and caught his breath in short snorts. 

"Pfff, you're insufferable." Sniper said. 

"As much as you like it, oui." The arrogant one answered. "By the way, if you've had enough, we can go to the spa now." 

"Uhm, y-yeah alroight." 

"I'll go first and you follow me. I won't look back at you unless you ask me to. Is that fine with you?" 

Once again, Sniper was astounded by how considerate Spy was with him. 

"Okay." 

"Let us proceed." 

They exited the room and stood in the corridor which was lit up. That's when Sniper realised it…

"Spook, oh God, you don't have yer mask!"

As a reflex, the Australian covered his eyes with his hands. 

"D-don't worry, I didn't see anythin', just the back of yer head. Tell you what, go ahead and put it back, I won't look!"

"May I turn to face you?" 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm not looking." 

Sniper felt Spy's fingers pulling his hands off his face. He let him do but kept his eyes closed. 

"S-spy, d'you have you mask now?"

"Oui."

Sniper opened his eyes. 

"Oh shite! Spook!" He closed his eyes immediately again. "Why did you lie?! You don't have yer mask on still!"

"Open your eyes, Sniper." 

"Y-you sure?" 

"Oui, please." 

The Australian slowly opened his eyes. 

"Oh…" His jaw dropped. The man in front of him, holding his hand, was such a sight to behold. Very light blue eyes, a hooked, slim nose, slightly protruding cheekbones, thin lips. And his hair… It was impeccably combed back, with a lighter grey tuft at the front and on his temples.

"The reason why I had the lights off there was for both you and me. I don't particularly like showing my face, it is the face of an old man who made way too many mistakes. But if you were to make an effort, then I should make one too, to prove that my intentions with you are sincere."

Sniper failed to translate his thoughts into words. Spy understood it and smiled. He took his friend by the hand and guided him to a pool. It was quite small compared to the usual pools Sniper had been to. It looked more cosy too. Spy left his towel on the edge of it and entered. Sniper copied him and followed, still holding his friend's hand. 

"Spook?" 

"Oui?"

"Uh… Thanks." 

"It's nothing."

"N-no, it's a lot. Thanks for all this, and the swimmin' shorts."

That's what Spy had handed him over the booth door. 

"It is only natural."

"Why didn't you give them to me straight away?" 

The Frenchman smiled. 

"Because I knew you would try and leave and I didn't want to put more pressure than was necessary at first."

"I-I'm a bit… I mean… You can predict how I react to what you do and stuff. How do you do that?" 

"I begin to know you quite well, amongst other things." 

"Hm. Guess you're right. But I still, I mean, I don't know much about you. Apart from ya don't like yer face for some reason."

"Do you think it is unreasonable?" Spy asked. 

"I wouldn't judge, cause, eh, y'know why… B-but I'd say that I don't understand. I mean, there's nothing wrong with yer face."

"My main issue with it is that I've had to change it so many times… I've played so many roles, I've ran away and hid it so many times. Sometimes I look at it in the mirror and I wonder who the man I see is."

"You're… You're a mystery and a half."

"Well, that is my job indeed." 

"No, that's not what I mean. You seem so cold-hearted at first but then, you're also the kindest bloke I've met. And you hide it bloody well."

"I take it all as a compliment." 

"I didn't mean it to be… uh… something mean or anythin'..."

Spy eventually turned his head and looked his companion in the eyes. Sniper was awestruck. Spy's gaze was so different now that he had discovered how soft the man _without the mask_ could be. The Frenchman slid his fingers through Sniper's, underwater, and let his thumb stroke the back of his hand. 

"Merci." 

"You're welcome." 

They made it back to the base and it was already the evening. Spy parked his car next to the Australian's van. 

"Sniper, may I ask a favour?"

"Sure." 

The Frenchman put his mask and gloves back on. 

"Would you mind having dinner with me tonight?" 

Sniper's pupils dilated in the dark and his heart woke up. He could almost see the collar of his own polo shirt tremble under the pounding beat of his heart in his chest. 

"Uh, I mean, ahem… Y-yeah, sure." 

"Merci." 

The Frenchman proved the reputation of his country. His cooking skills were godly, and after dinner both mercenaries found themselves on the sofa in front of the dancing flames of the fireplace. 

Spy brought two glasses of wine and sat next to his guest. Sniper had let his long legs flow straight in front of him and could almost feel the heat from the fireplace on his feet.

"Here." 

"Oh, thanks mate." 

"All the pleasure is mine." 

Sniper sighed. 

" _Coeur qui soupire n'a pas ce qu'il désire."_

"What?" 

"A heart that sighs is not getting what it desires. It's a saying in French."

"Oh, I see." 

"So the question is, what is it that your heart desires and that it is not getting?" 

"Nothin'... Absolutely nothin'. It's just that a lot happened today."

"Indeed." 

Both took a sip of the wine and Sniper stared at his feet. His legs were so long that it seemed that his feet were too far almost. And of course, he was wearing socks. Spy noticed it.

"I am proud of you, Sniper." 

"Huh?" 

"What you did today a lot of people wouldn't even dream of doing. Fear would paralyse them but you, non, you are very courageous. It is admirable." 

"Oh, thanks. I mean it's thanks to you and… It's not like I can remove my socks now still so…"

"One victory at a time. And don't be too hard on yourself. Napoléon did not conquer the entirety of Europe overnight."

Sniper smiled at the comparison. 

"Yeah, true. But still… It's not much, is it? And at my age, it's-it's shameful…"

"Non." Spy sat on his knees next to his friend on the sofa. "And your feet aren't something people would look at anyway. There are so many other features that are infinitely more comely in you and on you." 

Sniper raised a curious eyebrow. His friend took both the empty glasses away and bent forward slightly to be closer to Sniper. The lights were low and the Frenchman’s room smelled of a delicate balance between coffee, cigarettes and of course, Spy's perfume. Sniper could smell it very clearly. He liked that smell, maybe more than he thought he would. 

"You are a handsome man, Sniper. You are tall, quite lean. Your hands…" 

Spy took one of Sniper's hands with both of his own. 

"Your hands are amazing."

"What are you talkin' about? They're rough, and calloused." 

"Who said it was bad?" Spy answered with a smile and Sniper blushed slightly. "Your shoulders are broad, but not too much." The Frenchman had put his hand on Sniper's left shoulder. 

"And then we get to your face, Monsieur. Your skin has seen so much of the sun, it now manages to resemble it. Your eyes shine equally brightly, through their lagoon blue colour; a colour that brings peace to me."

Spy put his index on the Australian's left eyebrow, tracing its shape to his temple.

"Your sideburns? Absolutely out of any kind of fashion the earth has ever seen. But it makes you so unique." His finger followed it to his cheek, and brushing under Sniper's eye, he felt that his friend's breath had stopped. He was looking at Spy with round eyes, like a curious owl. It made the Frenchman smile, even his eyes were smiling. 

"We arrive on your nose, slim and long, I like it. But my favourite, apart from your eyes, are those…" Spy's finger glided down Sniper's nose like a child down a slide. He only slid a bit further down and stopped right above the Australian's lips. 

Their faces were a couple of inches away. Their eyes in each other's, as if they held both ends of a thread. An invisible thread that was growing stronger as their eyelids stopped bowing down, as their breaths cut sharp, as the silence was deafening and through it, both hearts were pounding.

It took an instant. Of madness, of pure absurdity, a flick of the flames in the fireplace, their crackling being the perfect volume, not too low, not too loud. And their lips met. 

The Frenchman had bent in and the Australian forward. They had been wanting it, at that moment. And in that split second, the touch filled them in a delicious and delirious heat. Spy had cupped Sniper's face and was pressing his lips oh so delicately while Sniper's hands were awkwardly hanging on the Frenchman's sides wherever they could, as if he was slipping off a cliff and desperately trying to catch his grip on it. 

But oh Lord, the Frenchman's first tongue was the one of romance and with as much as a twist of his lips, he managed to pull out any life force and sense of reality from the tall, now defenseless Australian. 

They eventually broke the kiss to catch their breath but Spy kept his forehead pressed against Sniper's, his nose brushing the Australian's. He was smiling.

Sniper's mind was blown up and away. He pulled Spy's waist closer to himself and the Frenchman straddled his thighs, sitting on him. 

"Sniper?" He whispered. 

The Australian raised his eyes to the reason his heart was beating so hard. 

"I think I not only fell in the trap of friendship but I might also… _love you._ " 

Spy slid his fingers in Sniper's hair and the latter smiled. 

"You must have heard it a million times but uh… Yeah… I-I love ya." 

"I might, but never from lips as soft as yours." 

"Oh, uh, I-I'm sorry I might be a bit rusty. It's been a long time since, y'know…"

Spy's smile widened. 

"Then I need to get you used to it again, hm?" 

"I-I guess so-hmm…" 

Sniper's bed that night wasn't the one in his van.


	6. Some peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Sniper getting overwhelmed when the mercs get together to drink. Most of them get hella chaotic and get too loud for Sniper and Spy just notices and helps."

* * *

The atmosphere was more than cheerful in the base. The team hadn't lost a single match that day! 

The mercenaries were in the living-room, celebrating as they should. Demoman's scrumpy was flowing, the bottles of beer piling up more and more around the sofas and the table. The Scotsman had decided to tell the story of his noble ancestry and how they had acquired his faithful eyelander. 

"Ooh if ye could've seen it lads! The Loch Ness, good old Nessie! Ah, it brings a tear to me eye. Twas a vile thing!" He swung his bottle in the air. "Very vile, awful little big thing of a water snake!"

He slammed his fist on the table and his colleagues were all hung on the drunk man's lips. 

"Oh man!" Scout shouted. 

"You've gotta tell us more about the details of this operation, Demo!" Soldier added.

"Aye! And by God I'll tell ya! Tis the tale of the DeGroot family and how we became the first to see Nessie!"

"Mmph-mmmph?!"

"Of course he exists, ye sissy! I've seen him with this eye!"

The way-past-tipsy Scottish man pointed at his only remaining eye. He took a good swig of his scrumpy and went on.

"Are ye ready for it laaaads?!"

"Yeah!"

"Affirmative!

"Ja!"

Sniper winced at the noise of all the voices. He was sitting a bit further away. Poor him, he could hardly bear the noise but he also wanted to celebrate the victory with his colleagues! 

But as usual, he was trapped between his will to try and be more sociable, share more with his colleagues, and his old lonely self. His whole life he had spent alone. His Mann Co. contract was actually his first professional occasion to work in a team rather than as a solo hunter. There were sides to the job that he definitely could not manage to appreciate. His loud colleagues was one. Oh Lord, he could almost taste the aspirin he would have to take the next day, not because of the alcohol, but because of the racket. 

Sniper leaned back on his seat and let his hat cover his eyes. Maybe snoozing for a bit would help him get a bit more energy to bear the atmosphere. 

"And then what did he do, your great-grandad?!" Scout asked. 

"He put the eyelander down and looked at Nessie right in the bloody eye! And he said: oi! ye bloody old worm, come here, I'll teach ya! Ye wee slitherin', swimmin' worm!" 

Demoman was a fantastic storyteller. One could see oneself sitting in the decor, touching the Loch Ness monster almost! 

"And he  _ STRUCK HIM ON HIS WEE FAT HEAD! HAHAHAHA!" _

"YEAAAH!"

Sniper's eyes snapped opened. He didn't manage to doze off with all the shouting! He grumbled and adjusted his position on his seat when someone took the hat off his very head. The Australian almost jumped back to his feet and looked up and behind him. No one.

_ Oh you bastard…! _

He knew who the only man capable of this magic trick could be. He also was the only one missing in the room. 

Sniper arrived in front of the door with the knife symbol and knocked furiously. 

"Spy! Open up and give me my hat back! Spy, I swear if you don't open that door right here and right now, I'll bloody-oh!" 

Sniper stopped sharp. As someone who was used to wearing his aviator glasses all the time, he had that tic of pushing them back up his nose. He did the movement but didn't feel anything that time. His glasses had vanished from his very nose!

The Australian turned on his heels and looked around. How? When?! 

"Huh?" He gasped as he heard the sly bastard in the suit snicker. 

"Spy, I swear when I get my hand on you…"

"You're supposed to be a hunter, Sniper. Try and get me, then."

The door with the knife symbol creaked. Sniper turned and looked at it. It was ajar. He pushed it shyly and peeked his head in.

"Spook? You here?" 

"What do you think, hm?"

"You piker…" 

Spy was obviously cloaked and was making a fool of the Australian who joined in the game. 

"Come on…! You're supposed to be a killer hunter and yet you have no idea where I am."

"Gimme a second, I need to focus!"

"Focus all you want,  _ mon amour…"  _ [my love]

Sniper fell deep in thought. He knew Spy. The man was a panther in human disguise and mask. He liked heated and comfortable places.

The Australian smirked and walked in. He took a seat on the sofa, in the middle and without flinching, he turned his head to the right and snatched the hat off his friend's head. The silhouette of his colleague appeared out of a cloud of smoke. Spy was sitting, a leg on the other, wearing Sniper's glasses. 

"Gotcha." Sniper concluded. 

"Not bad…" Spy answered. "But tell me, do they suit me?" He smugly asked, adjusting the glasses on his nose.

"Oh, you…" Sniper rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Cheer up. They are safe with me. They might even look better on me." Spy smiled smugly.

"Tsss…" Sniper shook his head.

"Am I wrong?"

"You look funny with'em. But I won't say you look better!" 

"Well, it's not because you won't say it that it is not true."

"Pfff…" Sniper chuckled. "I guess, yeah, maybe. Now give'em back, Spook." 

Sniper raised his eyes to the Frenchman. He was smirking, his head tilted on the side. 

"Come and get them…" Spy wiggled his eyebrows. 

"Oh I will…" Sniper sat up to kneel on the sofa and closed the gap between Spy's face and his. He pushed his lips on the Frenchman and pushed him to lie on sofa completely. 

"Hm-hm-hmm…!" Spy moaned and chuckled at the same time.

Sniper parted from his lover's lips.

"You're roight, you look good with my stuff." He put the hat on the Frenchman's head.

"Do I, now?" 

"Yeah, but you'd look better with the rest  _ off." _

Spy raised a malicious eyebrow. 

"Really...?" 

Sniper snickered but before he could say any word, the Frenchman added:

"I saw you in the living-room." Spy was looking at him with gentle eyes. "You don't like it when they get too loud. So I thought we might enjoy our evening otherwise."

"You're roight, I don't like it. But there is somethin' I like even less…"

"What is it?"

"You're making me waitin'."

"My apologies…" Spy's smile widened. " _ Embrasse-moi." [Kiss me.] _

The Australian dived in his lover's neck and nibbled the soft skin he was addicted to, as if it was a delicacy he had a sudden crave for.


	7. Sniper's hoodie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hi❤️One of Spy's biggest secrets is that..he *loves*hoodies. He discovered this when he saw Sniper being super comfy in his hoodie. Spy felt curious about what was so good about casual clothing so he stole Snipers hoodie. After trying it on, Spy felt like he was hugging a cloud, and so he never gave it back. Because Sniper was bigger than him, the hoodie was a little big on Spy, but that only made it even more comfy.No one knows about it until one day Sniper discovers it and he's: o//w//o Spoih?"

* * *

That evening, Spy had invited Sniper over for _"a quiet moment"_. The Australian had learnt that for his friend, that meant that he would listen to music or, very rarely, watch the television in his room with a glass of whatever beverage his mind had set to, and a cigarette. 

Those evenings they shared were now a habit. Spy hardly needed to say more to his friend than a simple "tonight?", and Sniper would nod in approval. As of late, the Frenchman had even dropped the word altogether and would look at his friend sat opposite him for dinner and nod his head in the direction of his suite, or even just move his eyebrows. 

Sniper knocked on the door. 

"Come in." 

He pushed the door and entered. 

"Hey, Spook."

"Good evening, Sniper, come take a seat and pray excuse me, the tea will be ready in an instant."

"Sure." 

The Australian sat on the sofa and within a minute, Spy appeared holding a tray with the promised hot beverage. 

"Here, a cup of tea shouldn't hurt in this cold, hm?"

"Yeah, you're right." 

The Frenchman sat down and poured the tea from the kettle into two mugs. He smiled. 

"Why're you smiling?" 

"Look at you, Sniper. I know you don't like it when I make jokes about your native country but you are definitely looking for it."

The Australian looked at himself and frowned.

"What d'you mean?" 

"You are sitting down with your hands in the large front pocket of your hooded jumper. You are the spitting image of a kangaroo…"

"It's called a hoodie, and what d'you want me to wear? 's too cold now… Yer cup of tea will help though, my hands are freezin'!"

Sniper removed his hands from his hoodie's pocket and held the mug. 

"Ooh yeah, that's nice."

"Isn't your van heated?" Spy asked. 

"Y-yeah, it is. But the cold is really too much, especially durin' the night."

Both men took a sip. The heat slowly diffused from their core out. 

"I have this sofa if you feel like the cold is unbearable. You can sleep here, I would not mind." 

Sniper raised his eyes to his friend. He thought he would see a devil's smirk, mocking him for the predicament he finds himself in every night. But none of that flashed on the Frenchman's face. He was being sincere…?

"Really?" 

"Of course. I don't want you to freeze to death. What would we do without the best marksman in the world…?"

Sniper's face radiated with a smile. 

"Oh, well, thanks Spook, but I don't want to impose myself on ya."

"You are not. What's more, I am the one offering this to you, if I was against it, I wouldn't suggest the idea."

"Thanks, mate."

"My pleasure… Cold kangaroo…!" 

"Oi! You're just jealous cause I'm all cosy and warm here while yer freezin' in yer shirt."

"Non!" Spy grabbed the cover that was on the sofa's back. It looked very soft, its dark red colour shone under the flames of the fireplace. "Come and try this." 

The Frenchman unfolded it and opened it wide behind his back. He held it open on his left, inviting Sniper to join him. 

"W-what?"

"Come on. I won't hold it all day. Come and wrap it around yourself." 

"Alroight…" 

Sniper slid closer to his friend on the sofa and let him cover his shoulders with the blanket. 

"Can't feel a bloody difference."

"Patience! Don't you know heat takes time to diffuse?" 

"Well, I'd be better with just my hoodie." 

"Sniper…"

"Alroight, alroight." 

They took a few sips and the Australian felt the tea warm him up. But more than that, he was sitting close to his friend, under the same blanket. His shoulders sank and he relaxed. 

"So, what do you say?" Spy asked.

"Whot?"

"You can even have this blanket if you insist." 

They looked at each other. Spy was smiling to his friend. 

"It wouldn't be a bad thing to have some company, especially during winter." 

"Yeah, and not freeze in the night would be good. Well, if that's ok with you, I'll grab a few things and I'll come back here."

"If you are looking for some pyjamas, I can lend you some."

"Oh uh, nah, c'mon. I'll go get my things. Give me a minute." 

Sniper went to the door. 

"Bushman?" 

"Hm?"

"I'll leave the door open, enter directly." 

"Oh, ok, thanks." 

After a smile and a short nod, the Australian disappeared. A few moments later, he came in Spy's suite again. 

"Spook? I'm back." 

The Frenchman exited his bedroom. 

"Oh, already ready to sleep eh?" Sniper said, seeing his colleague in his pyjamas and dressing gown.

"I like the comfort of night clothes after a day wearing a suit." 

"You'd almost sound human…" Sniper answered sarcastically. 

"Says the kangaroo with his hood on his head." 

" _Touchey."_

The Frenchman chuckled. 

"What?" Sniper sat on the sofa. He noticed that Spy had spread a large cloth on it, like a bed sheet and he had given him a few pillows.

"It's _touché_ , not _touchey_ , Bushman."

"Can't hear any bloody difference." 

"And yet there is one. But I won't bother you longer, Sniper. Have a good night."

"Don't worry, I will. It's nice and warm here. Uh, Spook?"

"Oui?"

"Thanks again for all this."

"Don't mention it." 

Each man was is his bed and yet, their minds were on the other. Beyond that door, was he sleeping already? Would the Australian stay the entire winter on the sofa? Would the Frenchman bear him? They both fell in the spiral of questions that echoed in the walls of their minds and ended up falling asleep faster than they thought they would.

Sniper blinked a few times. 

_What the…?_ _Oh yeah, Spook's room._

It took him a few seconds to realise that he was in the Frenchman's quarters. 

"Hm?" 

A smell tickled his nostrils, and his ears pricked up. Something was sizzling in the Frenchman's kitchen next door. Sniper quickly popped to the bathroom and when he exited, he arranged the sofa back to the state it was in before all that. He then turned to take his hoodie that he had left on the armchair the day before. 

_Where the hell is it…? Bah, I'll find it later._

Sniper headed to the kitchen and slowly opened the door. Spy was cooking and giving his back to him. The table was laid with coffee, toasts, butter and honey. But the Australian's eyes were riveted on his host. 

"Oi! Ya French kangaroo!" 

Spy got startled and almost dropped the wooden spoon from his hand. 

"Bushman! You scared me!" 

"And look who's wearin' my hoodie now, eh?"

"Ah, uh, well…" 

Sniper closed the door and got closer to his friend.

"Ya like it?" 

"What?" Spy was blushing still.

"My hoodie. I don't mind if you wear it." Sniper looked over Spy's shoulder to see what was cooking in the pan. "What's that?"

"A-an omelette. I thought you might like it." 

"Smells amazin'." 

_Like your hoodie._ The Frenchman thought. 

The truth was that he wanted to try it on and see for himself. But Spy hadn't anticipated that the hoodie could be so satisfying to wear. It was warm indeed and quite light. It was a bit too large for the Frenchman and Sniper clearly saw it especially where his shoulders were but it made Spy only more endearing. The Frenchman revelled in the softness and warmth. Yet there was something else. The fact that Sniper had been wearing it, his cologne, his _scent…_

The Australian had remained behind Spy, watching him cook. 

"Do you want it back?" The Frenchman asked. 

"Nah, my hands are a bit cold but apart from that, I'm fine." 

"Put them in the pocket." 

"W-what? But y-"

"Go on." Spy insisted and Sniper did as he was told. 

"Oh… Uh, thanks, eh…" 

"My pleasure." 

Spy put the wooden spoon aside and slid his hands in the hoodie's pocket. Sniper thought he would burst out of blush when he felt Spy's hands on his. Both their hearts were racing. 

"Sniper?"

"Y-yeah?" The Australian was still red in the face, his ears were hot. 

"I like your hoodie." 

The tall man got closer to his friend and rested his chin on Spy's shoulder. Hugging. He was hugging the man from behind. His heart swelled inside. 

"I like it when you wear it too. Suits ya." 

In the secret of the hoodie's pocket, fingers were laced and hands were held and stroked. 

Spy had turned off the stove a long time ago but nothing in the world would make him break the moment. He appreciated it too dearly. Both of them did.

  
  
  
  
  



	8. Their tattoos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Oh my freaking god i just had another idea. Sniper and Spy both have tattoos. Sniper has maybe some tribal-like-animal, and Spy has a tattoo sleeve made of roses. No one knows about this. Spy doesn't know about Sniper's tattoo and Sniper doesn't know about Spy's. But something happens and see each other's tats. -💞🐑"

* * *

"Oh you bastard…" 

Sniper heard his enemy coming, the snake in the suit. He turned his back, got his kukri out and leapt forward. The enemy Spy swiftly dodged the blow and slashed through the Australian's upper shoulder, in the back. Sniper thanked the Lord it wasn't a stab and retaliated. This time, it hit right in the enemy's chest and through it. 

"That's what you get, you mongrel!" 

The corpse quickly disappeared and the marksman resumed his position in front of the window. He picked up his rifle again. 

"Ouch… Argh…" The cut in the Aussie's back hurt. He put a hand behind on it but could only reach part of it. His vest, polo shirt and undershirt were ruined of course.

"YOU WIN!"

He sighed. Well, at least he could walk back to spawn and ask Medic to patch him up…

"Your sense of fashion is even worse than what I thought." Sniper looked in the direction where the voice with the French accent came from. 

"Ya had expectations?" 

Out of a thin cloud of smoke, his masked colleague appeared and walked along Sniper.

"Expectations? Of course not. I had a foolish hope at best."

Both of them exchanged a smile, and maybe a chuckle. 

"Oh, your back is injured."

"Yeah, your lot's coward enough to get us from the back!"

"Take it as compliment."

"Huh?"

They entered their spawn room and joined the rest of the team. 

"You don't look too bad from there…" 

Spy lit a cigarette and parted ways with his colleagues, leaving the Australian confused. 

_ The hell did he mean…? _

"Oh, Sniper, you look injured." Medic broke the tall man's train of thought.

"Huh? Y-yeah. Damn Spy got me in the back. Can you have a look?"

"Of course, follow me." 

The Australian obeyed but his colleague's sentence was stuck in his mind. 

_ You don't look too bad from there… _

Sniper sat on the doctor's table. 

Did it mean that Spy found his colleague handsome… _ from behind?! _

"Remove your clothes and lie down on your stomach, please."

He did as he was told.

Nah. Sniper shook his head and frowned. Impossible. But then what? Well, knowing the sarcastic Frenchman, he might as well have meant "I prefer seeing you from behind because your face is ugly." Yeah, that sounded more like it.

"It's only superficial. Your clothes look much worse than your skin. I will disinfect it quickly and add a plaster." 

"Thanks."

Sniper fell deep in thoughts again. 

Weird how Spy always seemed so mysterious. There was no way to know exactly what he was thinking, ever. And the way he phrased his sentences always had twice as many meanings as the number of letters its words contained. 

Sniper nonetheless liked his interactions with the masked man. There was something that made him feel at ease. Maybe it was the fact that along the months of working together and talking here and there, they had managed to get to know each other in the perfect way. It was always respectful and the banter was just the right tone. 

"You can go, Sniper. It's nothing to worry about." 

"Thanks, doc'." 

The Australian went back to his camper van and closed his door. He resumed his train of thought.

At times, Spy would also visit his Australian colleague, to kill the boredom, smoke a cigarette and maybe have a few laughs. Those moments where they were only the two of them had happened more and more frequently as of late. Sniper sometimes caught himself leaving his door open, or even when he heard a noise outside his van, he'd peek through his window and he would check if his friend was visiting him. More often than he would want, it was only the wind brushing the orange and dusty ground. But on the few occasions where he saw the silhouette of the suit, he would drop everything he was doing and open his door, even before Spy knocked. 

_ Knock, knock… _

Speaking of! 

Sniper raised an eyebrow. He opened his door. No one. 

"What…?" 

He exited his van and looked left and right. Nothing and no one. But he could have sworn that he heard a knock. He frowned and as he turned to jumped in his van again, he saw a note stuck on his door. It read:

_ "Good beer & a cigarette, my room." _

Sniper raised his eyes from the thin strip of paper he held between his fingers. 

_ Spy. _

A few minutes later, the Australian reciprocated the knock on his colleague's door. Unbeknownst to him, the Frenchman leapt to his bathroom, checked himself in front of the mirror, collar, teeth. He then slipped back in his living-room and opened the door. 

"Uh, hey Spy, is that from you?" 

Sniper showed him the note.

"What do you think?" 

"Well, yeah, I mean, not someone who speaks English as a first language who'd have such a handwriting." 

"Come in." 

Sniper entered. 

"Please take a seat on the sofa, I will be a minute." 

"Alroight." 

The Australian did as we was told and in a few seconds, the Frenchman brought a small, silver tray with two beers and a few bowls with nibbles. 

"Oh, thanks." 

"It is nothing." 

They sat next to each other. 

"Mate, this is an Australian one!" 

"Indeed it is. It took me weeks to find it but I finally managed to get my hand on a crate or two." 

"Aces!" 

Spy opened the bottles and they tipped their beers before taking a sip. 

"Oh, you're takin' me back home with this, thanks…!" 

The Frenchman grinned. Seeing his otherwise very reserved colleague radiating in such simple happiness pleased him. 

"How is the wound on your back?" Spy asked. 

"Better, Medic had a look at it, it's nothing too serious."

"Ah, good. Might I ask, I couldn't help but notice when you were injured, your clothes were in a very bad state…"

"Yeah, he tore my vest and my polo shirt open on my entire shoulder blade, that bastard."

"Indeed, and I saw your back…"

The smile on the Australian's lips vanished and he frowned, his gaze cold and focused on his host. 

"You have tattoos on it?"

"Uh…" Sniper lowered his head. He was visibly not at ease. But he couldn't lie, not to Spy. "Y-yeah, I do." 

The Australian blushed.

"What do they represent?"

"It's animals. Animals from back in Oz."

"May I see?" 

"Uh, mate… Erm…" 

"Oh, my apologies. I don't want to force you in any way. But let me show you something, if you please?"

Sniper nodded. 

"Bien."

[Good.]

The Frenchman removed his gloves and undid his cuffs. Sniper raised an eyebrow. He was both taken aback and curious. Spy then undid the buttons of his shirt. 

"Uuh, mate? Uh, what are you-?"

"Do not worry, I am not undressing completely." Spy smiled and Sniper realised that he was wearing a tanktop under his shirt. 

_ Thank God. _

The Frenchman delicately removed his right hand sleeve but it was when he removed his left hand one that Sniper's jaw dropped. 

Spy's right arm and forearm was covered in an intricate series of colored tattoos. They were in the shape of red roses, lacing around his whole right arm. Their thorns were dark but the flowers themselves were in quite a vibrant shade of red. 

"Wow, Spook… It's… It's gorgeous…!"

Spy grinned. 

"I had no idea you had all that! C-can I touch?" 

"But of course."

Sniper put his fingers on his friend's forearm and followed the multiple stems all the way up to Spy's shoulder. 

"Have you never wondered why I keep the long sleeves, even in this heat?" 

"I just thought you did it cause you liked your suits too much."

"I like them, it is true, but the summer gets quite tiring at times…!" 

"Oh, Lord, it's-it's majestic, the colours are amazing, and the motifs are… Crikey, I'm speechless, sorry…!"

"On the contrary, I find you quite talkative in general and now in particular." 

"Oh… And uh, y'know what, I'll show you mine. I'm afraid they're just black though…"

"Classic, I like it." 

Sniper removed his layers until he got bare chested. He turned his back to the Frenchman. 

"Oh, that is lovely… May I…?" Spy asked. 

"Y-yeah, go ahead. As I said, they're all animals."

Spy frowned and put his fingers on his friend's back. 

"Oui, I see that. Those are kangaroos, that's a hyena… The style is beautiful. I've never seen anything like it."

"It's tribal."

"Oh… Magnificent." Spy brushed the tips of his fingers on Sniper's back. It warmed him up on the inside. "And what is this one? Is that a sort of dog?"

"That's a dingo." 

"Oh, a dingo, my apologies. I have never seen one for real."

"Not even in zoos?" Sniper turned his head slightly. 

"Non, never."

"Well, you should come and visit then, they're even more beautiful in real life."

Spy slid his hands from Sniper's back up to his shoulders. The Australian felt the shivers run along his spine and without realising it, he closed his eyes. He liked the touch...

"Is this an invitation, Bushman?"

He chuckled and blushed. 

"Well, maybe eh… I-I mean I'd be happy to show you around if one day you wanted to come'n see Australia." 

"And I'm sure I would enjoy it very much." The Frenchman let his hands run on Sniper's naked shoulders. 

"I see the plaster. It isn't too big, in fact." 

"Oh, yeah, it shouldn't be. Medic said it was really nothin' in the end." 

"Although, I don't know why he gave you one of those plasters…"

"Well to prevent the blood from stainin' my clothes."

"Non, I know that. But why those motifs on it, that is curious."

“What are ya talkin’ about?”

"You shall see when you remove it tomorrow morning. Nothing shocking, it's just out of the ordinary." 

"Roight, whatever. I'd better go and get some sleep."

"Fine."

Both men put their clothes back on and the Australian left his friend alone. He turned his back to see the Frenchman. He was still at his doorstep.

"Uhm, Spy?" 

"Oui?" 

"Thanks for tonight."

"My pleasure."

The next day, Sniper woke up early, as he usually did. He had slept in his boxer shorts only and felt an itch in his back. 

"Ah, bloody hell, that plaster…" 

He unstuck it and was about to chuck it in the bin where a detail caught his eye.

"Oh, that's what Spook talked about, the motifs on the thing… What do they actually look like…?"

He took the plaster closer to his eyes. 

"Oh, bugger… Spook!" 

There was a heart, it was drawn with a biro pen and next to it was written in his cursive handwriting:

_ "Je t'aime." _

  
  
  



	9. Sniper's hat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hi!❤️. Spy doesn't admit it, but he like Snipers hat. He even would put it on sometimes when he's all alone in his room. Of course, Sniper would wonder where the hell did his hat go and he would start searching for it. Sniper finds the culprit (and *obviusly* he goes "o///w///o spoih?"), and tickles him to make him give the hat back. Will Sniper win? 👀 -💘🐑"

* * *

Sniper had been going round and round in his van. Since dinner had finished, he couldn't possibly find his hat. 

The Australian sighed. 

_ Where the hell is it…? _

He liked his hat and more than that, he needed it, for multiple reasons. Firstly and as obvious as it was, his brown hat was an invaluable asset for summer days like they were having; not like he wouldn't wear it in winter either…

But what Sniper liked most about his hat, is being able to hide himself. The tall man was shy, and reserved. He liked being able to push that hat down on his head to hide his eyes. 

And he was so used to it that the Australian found himself scratching his brow in such a way that wouldn't disturb the position of his hat, even if he was not wearing it. Some people had a tic with their glasses, Sniper had ones with his hat. 

The Australian stood in the middle of his van, his hands on his hips. It was such an annoyance! He was never used to losing the bloody thing! 

He had rummaged through cupboards, clothes and even drawers, to no avail. Sniper scratched his head. 

"Could it be with Spy? Maybe I left it in his room before dinner or somethin'?"

Sniper left his camper van and headed to his lover's room. He went through the base and stopped by the kitchen, where he took yet another look, just to be sure. Nothing. It was impeccably clean and tidy, and his hat was nowhere to be seen. 

Sniper grumbled and left. He went to the opposite door on the corridor and quickly searched the living-room again. Nothing either. His colleagues were absorbed in the baseball match on the television and thus didn't pay attention to the tall man lifting cushions and looking left and right. 

"Roight…" 

The Australian followed the corridor and took the few steps down the stairs before arriving at the door with the knife symbol. He put a hand in his pocket and retrieved a key with the matching symbol engraved on it. Spy had made a copy just for Sniper. He had given it to him so that he would be free to visit him whenever he wanted, maybe surprise him one day with his presence, who knew…? It was also to allow the Australian to have a "proper" home, as that tiny van of his was certainly no decent long-term dwelling.

Sniper turned the key in the hole, twisted the knob and entered.

As he pushed the door he raised his eyes and scanned the room. Spy didn't seem to be in his living room. 

_ Now I'm not just lookin' for my hat but for Spy too, great…! _

Sniper saw that his the door to his lover's bathroom was ajar. He got closer and aligned his eye with the thin opening. 

_ Bloody-! _

The Australian quickly slammed the door open and Spy gasped as he got startled. 

"Wh-What are you doin'...?"

Spy was standing in front of his mirror, with his lover's hat on his head.

"You gave me such a fright!" The Frenchman answered, putting a hand on his chest and catching his breath. 

Sniper's eyes were open wide. The hat certainly made a difference on his lover. He looked… lovely. He looked simpler in a way, less arrogant, the sort of a man who would appreciate long trips in a camper van. 

Seeing how Sniper was eyeing him, Spy smirked. He had understood that the sight of him with the hat had quite the effect on the Australian. 

"Well, someone likes what they're seeing…" 

The Frenchman nonchalantly put a hand on his lover's chest to push him out of the doorway where he had been standing. He had the most smug grin on his lips.

"Oi, where d'you think you're goin'?"

Spy went to the sofa and sat down. He spread his arms left and right on the top of the sofa and he put one leg on the other, the hat still on his head.

"Just sitting here." He answered and in his mind, he counted down. 

3.

The marksman spun on his heels. 




The Australian walked to the sofa. 

1.

Sniper sat next to Spy. 

"Give it back."

"Non." 

"Please."

"Non."

"Spy...?"

"Admit it. You find me attractive with it." 

Sniper blushed.

"That's not the point."

"Yes it is. The sole reason why you haven't taken it back yet is because you like to see me with it."

The Australian's ears went hot.

"What are you gonna do with my hat?"

"Tease you." 

Sniper took a second for the warm punch in his guts to diffuse away. 

"Spy, I'll come and get it if you don't willingly give it back to me."

"Who said I wouldn't want that?" 

"Oh, you devil!"

Sniper dived at Spy and pushed him to lie on the sofa. He knew one of his weaknesses so he used it. He put his fingers around Spy's sides and started tickling him. 

"Hahah! Non! Sniper!! Stop it-haahaha!"

"I won't stop until you give it back!" 

The Frenchman twisted and turned, trying to push his lover's fingers away but to no avail. Sniper's mind was set. 

"Alright! Alright! Fine! Stop! Please!"

The Australian stopped. 

"Now, my hat, on my head." 

Spy wiped the tears he had in his eyes because of the sudden burst of laughter. 

"On one condition!" 

"What?"

"Your lips, on my lips." 

Sniper dived again and met with his lover's demand. As he did so, he felt the hat land on his head as a slim leg curled on his back. 

  
  
  
  



	10. Kisses and sweets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hi😳😳😳 i got another one😳😳😳. Sniper l o v e s kisses, but is too shy to ask for them or to start them himself. Spy l o v e s sweets, but no one can find out, they'll think he is childish! And so, they find out about the others' likings and they end up mixing them both up: kisses with sweets o///w///o -💘🐑"

It was Saturday and as always, it was a day off for all the mercenaries.    
  
Scout, Demo and Soldier were fighting over which program they should watch on the television. Engineer had set Pyro’s small pool outside, in the shade of the base, and the fire specialist was enjoying his time. It was the peak of summer and the heat was hitting hard.    
  
The Australian was with his French friend. They were lazily lying on the sofa. The former who was used to the heat, was in a tank top and a pair of shorts while the latter had clung onto his shirt and suit trousers.

“You must be meltin’ under yer clothes. Go get a change for something lighter, mate.”

“Non.”

“Spy…?”

“Summer clothes are never fashionable anyway. Also, the heat isn’t the only reason why I am melting.”

“Whot is it? Are you sick or somethin’? Sniper asked.

“Non, you genius, it’s because of you.”

“Oh…” The Australian had missed his friend’s meaning at first.

“The comfort of your arms, Sniper, it is truly delicious and warms my heart.”

Sniper smiled and held his lover closer.

“You know what would do us some good?” He asked, spooning the Frenchman.

“I have my little idea on the subject but I would have thought you would disagree with me.”

“What?”

“Isn’t it too early in the day for…  _ it _ ?”

“I didn’t mean  _ that _ , you bloody idiot…” Sniper chuckled as he nuzzled in Spy’s neck.

The Frenchman turned to face his lover.

“What then?”

“A bit of ice cream. Oh I’d kill for it.” Sniper answered.

“Kill all you want, as long as it’s the members of the opposite team!” Spy said, chuckling while he cupped his lover’s face, sliding a leg between his. “But I’d start by going to the kitchen. I have bought a box of vanilla ice cream.”

“Vanilla?” Sniper asked.

“ _ Isn’t that how you like your romances too…?” _ Spy murmured as he came closer and kissed Sniper on his lips, for no other reason than he could. He, the arrogant Frenchman, he could kiss this gorgeous exotic man that Sniper was, and by God he would.

The Australian felt his legs turn to liquid. He would never ask for kisses but Spy’s were just something else. The twist of his lips, the way he pulled or pushed, slickly, fluidly, was exquisite and in all aspects poetic. The Frenchman just knew exactly what to do for his lover to lose his mind.

When Spy pulled back and opened his eyes, Sniper’s were still closed. He smiled. 

“I will get the ice cream for you,  _ mon amour,  _ don’t move. It is in the base kitchen, not mine. It should take me only a few minutes.”

Sniper wished he had the strength to say that he had lost his legs and so he couldn’t move even if he wanted. Spy added a prude kiss to his lover’s forehead as Sniper opened his eyes and got off the sofa.

“Spy?”

“Hm?”

“Come back quickly, please.”

“Don’t worry, I will.”

The Frenchman shut the door of the room after him and left the Australian alone. Sniper sighed in a satisfied way. Ah, what could one dream, more than that? Nothing, absolutely nothing. He had someone who loved him, in a true and simple way, and paradoxically enough, it was the least simple man he knew. But what a find, that man! A mystery and a half really, yet he loved every bit of him.

Sniper got off the sofa and went to Spy’s small kitchen area. The masked man lived in quite a spacious suite and had the privilege of having his own private kitchen, bathroom and living-room. The Australian rummaged in the cupboards just to see if he could find anything to go with the ice cream, like some fruits for instance. He opened the cupboards left and right, opening jars and half-discovering what Spy liked. It didn’t come as a surprise that the man who wore custom-tailored suits also liked his food to be expensive. Most of the brands Sniper saw, he had never heard of before. 

It made the tall man smile. He liked that in Spy, the fact that he was very different from him. It made the relationship much more interesting as he felt like he discovered his lover everyday a bit more. 

His eyes stopped when they met a tin box. Sniper took it out of the cupboard and opened it. 

“What the… Is that…?”

Yes indeed, it was what he thought. The Frenchman seemed to have a weakness for acid sweets. Sniper stole one and quickly put the box back where he had found it. He opened the next few boxes and more sweets were hidden there too. Spy had a very sweet tooth that he hid very well indeed! Sniper never knew that!   
  
The Australian shook his head with a smile.

“The smug bastard, he likes the same sweets that my folks used to buy me when I was a kid…”

Sniper’s search went on. He finally found some ground hazelnuts and some caramel. It would certainly go very well with the ice cream. The Australian came back to the living room with it all under his arm. He put it on the coffee table and went back to the kitchen to get two glasses of water ready. A few minutes later, Spy came back.

“Sorry it took me longer than expected. I had to avoid Scout in the kitchen. I thought he could camp there…!”

“It’s fine, don’t worry. You got the icecream in the end?”

“Oui, along with two bowls and spoons.”   
  


Spy sat down next to his lover on the sofa and opened the ice cream box. The cold vapour started evaporated off of it. The Frenchman tried to scoop it off but it was too hard. 

“Well, I’d better give it a few minutes… Oh, you found the hazelnuts and the caramel sauce?”

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind, I just had a quick look around.” Sniper answered.

Spy turned to his lover and put a hand on his thigh. He looked up to his eyes, with his own pupils wide.

“Hm, of course not, I’m glad you did… It shows that you’re getting more and more comfortable here.”

The Frenchman put his fingers on his lover’s neck and pulled him closer. They pushed their foreheads against each other’s and dived for a kiss. Spy pushed his lover to lie with a hand on his chest while Sniper pulled his lover from the collar of his shirt. They both sank on the sofa again. The masked man was towering his partner who was fumbling shyly with the buttons of his shirt. Spy went to his lover’s ear and whispered:

_ “Open my shirt if you want, don’t be so shy.” _

Sniper turned his head for his lips to connect again with his lover. He pushed his lips repeatedly on the Frenchman’s, disconnecting shortly after, while undoing the buttons of his shirt. He knew Spy liked to be teased and it did not failed. The Frenchman dived and,  _ added the French to the kiss. _

He suddenly withdrew. 

“Somethin’s wrong?” Sniper asked.

“You found my sweets, haven’t you?”

The Australian blushed and lowered his eyes. He realised Spy tasted the lemon sweet as he kissed him.

“Well, I-I was looking for somethin’ to go with the ice cream… I’m sorry…”

Spy put a finger under Sniper’s chin and pulled it up, forcing him to look him in the eye. 

“Who says I was complaining? You now taste like a mix of my two favourite treats: lemon sweets, and  _ you…” _

“Oh, bloody-mh!”

Sniper felt like a powerful punch to his guts when Spy’s sentence hit his mind, and even more so when the Frenchman started lazily massaging his tongue against the Aussie’s. The tall man moaned and Spy drank his sighs of pleasure.

The ice cream wasn’t the only one melting in the room.


	11. Flirting/flirted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A-Another one?😌😣❤️ There's days in which Sniper feels confident and talkative. They are strange days, but still, they happen. He talks, a lot compared to normal days. And talking that much leads to being flirty with Spy, instead of the other way. And this leads to flirtying fights. Who would win? 🤔 -❤️🐑"

* * *

The Frenchman recalled the events at the end of dinner. Through the racket of the cutlery on the plates, one of his colleagues had been particularly more talkative than usual; and thank God it wasn’t Scout.

“Did I tell you about the time I lost my parents chickens at the market?”

“You did what?” Spy asked, thinking his misheard or misunderstood. “Is this an expression in English that I’m not aware of or should I understand it literally?”

Sniper laughed and wiped his mouth.

“Nah mate, I’m bein’ serious. So, picture this, we were out on the marketplace with my parents cause obviously, it was market day and my parents bein’ farmers… Y’know, it’s a big day. But here’s the thing…”

Spy listened while eating his yoghurt, a smile on his lips.

“... They had left the truck’s keys with me and asked me to keep my eye on it while they settled out tables and stuff. So I thought to meself, alroight, why not open the truck and get the cages with the chickens out.”

“How old were you?”

“I don’t know, about 12 or somethin’. So yeah, I opened the back of the truck and started unloading the cages. Thing is, I hadn’t anticipated they’d be that bloody heavy. So I lifted the first one, my jacket got caught up in the lock on a second one, I tried to move it, ended up tumbling like a rock down a hill and falling!”

“Oh, it must have hurt..!” Spy chuckled. 

“The cage in my arms obviously escaped my hands and its door broke, the chickens spilled everywhere, cacklin’ as they darted off!”

Spy could hardly contain his laughter. He hunched his back and hid his face in his hand as he laughed, catching his breath in short snorts.

“How many chickens did you lose?” Spy asked, trying to calm down and catch his breath.

“That’s only a dozen between the two cages. But wait for it, wait for it!”

The kitchen had emptied meanwhile and it was only the two of them still at the table, under the light bulb. It was Sniper’s turn to wash the dishes so there was nowhere he was going until he had been done that.

“Here’s the craziest thing! I was there in the truck, covered in bruises, I had no idea what to do!”

“That’s terrible, Sniper, absolutely dreadful!” Spy was holding his sides and Sniper had joined him in the laughter.

“Oh, Lord, Spook,” The Australian put his arm on the back of Spy’s chair. “And I thought when my parents find out about it, they’d kill me for it. So I put a hand on my face and that’s when I realised I was covered in bruises, blood dripping off the cuts and scratches the chickens left. And it hit me! I got a brilliant idea!”

“What in the name of God did you think about…?” Spy leaned his head back on his friend’s arm. He raised his eyes to Sniper and the latter looked down at him. Oh that sight… Those light blue eyes, eyelids half-closed and their attention fully devoted to the Australian. Sniper loved it more than he could say. He raised his eyes to the door and saw that the door was closed.

Sniper smirked and raised a devious eyebrow.

“I won’t tell you what happened next.”

“What?!” The Frenchman straightened his back and head right away. He frowned when he saw his friend’s smile widen.

Sniper closed his arm around Spy’s arm and pulled him closer. 

“I’ll do it like Shereherazade. Y’know what she did, that sheila? It’s in the One Thousand and One Nights. The Prince or whatever married her but she knew he’d kill her the next morning cause that’s what he’d done with the previous tons of sheilas he’d slept with. So she told him the beginning of a story and stopped right before the best bit. She’d tell him the rest the next day. And then she kept on saying that, night after night, that’s how she survived!”

“I didn’t know you were familiar with the story.”

Sniper wiggled his eyebrows proudly.

“Oh but I am. You’re the only bloke with some fancy bits and bobs in his head, eh?

“Do remind me though, how was she called that princess?”

“Shereherazade or somethin’.”

“Pfffhahaha!” Spy burst out laughing, holding his sides harder.

Sniper frowned. 

“What the hell’re you laughin’ at?”

“It’s _Scheherazade_ , or in Arabic, _Sharhazad_ , not the nonsense you just invented!”

Sniper’s eyebrows jumped. He didn’t know his colleague could speak Arabic...

“Ooh, look at you, gettin’ clever in Arabic, eh?” Sniper tapped the tip of his friend’s nose with his index finger playfully and Spy pulled his nose with a smile. “You really are like a cat.”

“What?!”

“You’re arrogant, but deep down, you love the attention.”

“I cannot complain. But tell me, Scheherazade-who-shsoots-heads-from-far-away, what shall I do for you to finish your story, hm? And please don’t tell me I have to wait for the next night!”

“Oh no, you won’t…”Sniper’s face got even closer to the Frenchman. “Not when you’re bein’ like that.” He whispered and given his hoarse voice, it almost sounded like a growl. Spy couldn’t hide his pleasure and smirked. He looked Sniper straight the eye.

“Not when I’m like what exactly, hm? Pray explain.”

“Oh you bloody know what I mean.”

Spy’s smile widened. Their faces were a few inches apart and they could just about breath each other’s air. Both felt the thrill and the tension of it.

“Tell you what, Spook: I’ll wash the dishes and then pop to your room.”

Sniper stood up and rolled up his sleeves. The Frenchman stood up too and headed for the door.

“Will you tell me what you did with your parents’ chickens then?”

“Yeah, we’ll see!” He answered loudly before murmuring to himself “As if that’s what’s your lookin’ for…” Sniper started the tap and got on with the dishes.

Spy walked back silently towards his friend and, pushing himself to the tip of his toes, he put his hands on Sniper’s shoulders suddenly.

“Huh?!” The tall man got startled and gasped.

“You’d better tell me the end of that story and not leave me hanging like that, Bushman…!” Spy threateningly whispered down his friend’s neck, from behind.

“Oh you…!” The Australian grabbed the nearby hand towel and turned to slap Spy with it.”You scared me, I thought you were gone already! Bugger off!” 

Spy dodged the towel easily.

“What if I stayed and didn’t bugger off…?”

Sniper leapt at him with the towel in his hand, to try and slap him again, but Spy darted away faster, giggling as he saw his provoking of his friend had the intended effect.

“Tsss, bloody Spies, I swear…”

Half an hour later or so, Spy got out of the shower. He put on his bathrobe and combed his hair back. He liked it particularly when Sniper was having one of those days. It didn’t happen very often, but what a delight. He would be more talkative, share more of himself with his colleague. And it seemed to be only with him, which flattered Spy beyond what he could imagine.

As soon as he finished lacing the bathrobe belt around his waist, a knock on the door resounded. Spy put on his mask. He knew who was coming and so he opened the door, paying attention to still hide behind it, not for anyone else to see him in his bathrobe. He quickly shut the door and Sniper turned to face him.

“Been waitin’ fer me, I see?” The Australian raised a devious eyebrow as he eyed the Frenchman from his bare feet, slim legs, all the way up to his chest, his neck and his face.

“You wish…” Spy arrogantly replied and turned his back to head to the sofa. 

But it wouldn’t do for Sniper. The Australian leapt in and grabbed the only thing he could, which turned out to be the bathrobe belt. It slid out of the rings around the Frenchman’s wait and the bathrobe pans flew open.

Spy froze, his back still to the Australian. Sniper was confused, the belt in his hand, at the crossroad between two very opposite emotions. On one hand, he wanted to apologise profusely, turn on his heels and leave, but on the other hand… 

The Frenchman looked down and back up. 

“Well, this seems very unfair, Sniper.” Spy’s voice purred as he turned, holding his bathrobe closed with his arms crossed on his chest. He took the step that separated him from his taller friend and stuck himself to Sniper’s chest, holding on to his shirt collar.

Sniper saw it in Spy’s eyes. The Frenchman was asking him to not apologise, and to be honest, he didn’t want either. 

“Go on,” Sniper opened his arms left and right. “Make it even then.”

Spy’s eyes shone brighter as his pupils dilated. The Australian giggled. 

“You’re really nothin’ but a cat, Spook, you purr when you’re in a good mood.”

“And you growl, what does that make you…?”

“I’ll show you when we get fair and equal. Although, I have to say, Spook.”

The brown hat and the sleeveless jacket were on the floor already. Spy had unbuttoned the polo shirt slowly, taking the time to enjoy every moment but stopped sharp and looked up.

“To really be level, I’ll need that mask o’yours… _off_.”

Spy raised an eyebrow. 

“Ambitious…” He pulled the polo shirt up and removed it. “I’ll tell you what, come back more often for this, and I might.” He winked at the Australian.

“Playin’ the Sheherazade trick on me? You can’t do that!”

Spy chuckled.

“I can and watch me, I will.”

Soon, the rest of the Australian’s clothes would fall, but before that, Sniper had put his hands on Spy’s sides and what a sigh the Frenchman let out… The tall man had to bend down and kiss him right there and right then. Needless to say, the night of sleep was short.


	12. Saxophone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Headcanon: Sniper is good on playing saxophone that makes spy impressed UwU "

* * *

It was a warm evening. The Frenchman took it as an opportunity to have a walk around the base. The sun was setting gently and the pink in the sky softened the old Spy.

He took a cigarette and lit it, his feet brushing the orange dust below his expensive italian soles. The warm tint of the sky was covering the base with a strange, melancholic feel. The Frenchman's mind rolled back in time. That kind of atmosphere always pushed him to think about himself, what he had been through in his life. 

Spy had left his feet on auto-pilot. He was not thinking where he was going, as long as he was moving and feeling the light breeze of air where his skin wasn't covered, namely, around his mouth and his eyes.

He puffed on his cigarette and blew the smoke in a circle. He watched the vapour float and diffuse, as the ring of fumes widened and withered. 

"Hm?" 

He raised an eyebrow. Something caught his ear. Like a reflex, he put his hand on his jacket, where his knife was. But soon, he relaxed, for he understood that it wasn't a noise or a sound, it was music. 

He let the notes guide him to their source and cloaked. the music was coming from his colleague's camper van. 

It was his breathy saxophone. The notes sang, long and mellow as Spy realised Sniper was leaning against the side of his van, playing the saxophone to the setting sun. 

The Frenchman approached silently, his cloak facilitating the job greatly. He watched his colleague. Sniper was standing up, he had removed his hat. Maybe he wanted to enjoy the slightly cooler temperature too? 

Spy watched keenly. Under the pink and orange sunlight, the saxophone shone beautifully. But the instrument wasn't the only one offering new colours for the Frenchman to savour with his eyes. Sniper's brown hair followed the slow movements of his head, reflecting the shy sunlight in shades of light brown and almost golden where it shone the most. 

Spy tilted his head on the side. Sniper was focused on the music but not in a way that strained him. Non, on the contrary, his body moved left and right, slowly, in rhythm with his play. The Frenchman raised an eyebrow when his eye went down along Sniper's silhouette only to realise that his hips were waving gently. It made the bitter man smile through his cloak.

The Australian was living the tune he was blowing in waves of air, like a private concert to the entire silent desert. Little did he know that his audience was not only the red soil, the cacti scattered here and there, the rocks and boulders in the distance but also one man. One old man, embittered by time, by his mistakes, some of which he was faced with everyday that God made. But right now, that masked man, sharply dressed, was charmed. Oui, he was bewitched by the whole show. 

Sniper played with his eyes closed, but without frowning. On the contrary, his eyebrows were arched high up. His fingers caressed the golden instrument like the body of a loved one that he knew by heart. He knew what he was doing and where he was going, but that did not prevent him from enjoying it. He showed a lot of respect to the saxophone too. Spy was impressed. He didn't realise it but his jaw had dropped slightly. His shoulders had sunk and he had dropped his cigarette to the floor. 

Sniper went on for a while until something prompted him to open his eyes. It was a smell… cigarettes? Menthol cigarettes? 

The Australian raised his eyes off the ground. 

"Argh!" Sniper shouted, removing the instrument from his lips.

"Aargh?!" Spy shouted back his hands jumping in front of him, like a reflex. Sniper was looking him right in the eye! How could he?! Spy was cloak-

"Merde…" His watch had ran out.

"How long have you been standin' there?!" Sniper asked, his heart still trying to go back to normal. 

"I do apologise. Not that long." 

In truth, the Frenchman had no idea. It could have been one minute or five hours, God only knew. 

"I must say, you seem very well versed in this." 

"Thanks." Sniper put his instrument down and slipped inside his van. Spy thought that was goodbye. He had broken the moment and annoyed his friend. Bah, he surely didn't deserve more. 

"Been playin' the sax for a long time now." Sniper emerged with two folded chairs in his hands. Spy's face radiated with happiness. He took the chair that Sniper handed him and they unfolded them facing the last rays of sunlight before taking a seat. 

"I… I am impressed. I didn't know you could uh… Pardon me, I don't exactly know how to phrase it." 

"Lost yer tongue? Not everyday that happens."

Spy smiled and lit a cigarette. 

"Non, indeed. I am twice impressed then." 

Sniper turned his head and looked at his friend. 

"Seriously, Spook."

"What is it?"

"You're really impressed?" 

Spy's eyes went to his friend. 

"Am I in the habit of joking?"

"Nah, but some might say you're in the habit of lyin', eh…" 

Spy gave his friend a smug smile.

"Rumour has it it is even in my job description. But-" He put his gloved finger on his lips. "Not a word to the others, hm?"

Sniper chuckled at the wink his friend gave him. 

"Don't worry, I'll keep it a secret, mate. Y'know, you're a funny bloke in the end."

"In the end?" Spy repeated. 

"Well, said it yerself, you're not really makin' jokes all the time, eh." 

"It's true. But we're both learning about each other."

Sniper raised an eyebrow, confused.

"You learned that I can make a joke, and I, that you can keep a secret." 

"True, true…" 

"You can keep one secret, but can you keep two?" Spy asked. 

"Think I can, yeah." 

"Ambitious." 

"C'mon, how hard can it be?"

"Some secrets are heavier than others to bear in one's heart." 

Spy's eyes shone differently. They were very light and so were filled with the changing light of the sky. As of now, they were dark orange mixed with light blue, almost grey. 

"You'd know better." Sniper said.

"Indeed, I would. But I need to be sure, Sniper. Can I trust you with yet another truth that no one knows?"

"Y-yeah, I think you can." The Australian's interest grew. His friend's stare had changed. He was speaking to him differently.

"I must warn you. This truth that I hold, I don't hold it in my hand or in my head. I… I would even say that I can only barely tell you about it. I've never even admitted it to myself completely." 

Sniper went from confused to lost. 

"But if you think that you can take it, I will tell you. Get your seat closer and lend me your ear for an instant." 

The Australian dragged his hair to stick it to the Frenchman and bent on his side to offer his ear to his friend. He put a hand behind his ear to hear better. Spy smiled. He put his hand against Sniper's and slowly slid his fingers between the taller man's. 

The sun had gone now and the moon was only barely there. The stars shyly scintillated, they didn't dare interrupt the moment. 

Spy got his lips closer to the Australian and whispered the three words that he had never heard himself say to any other man before. He said them in English first, for Sniper to understand, and then in French, as a token of the truth they bore.

Sniper looked at him, eyes wide and lips parted. Spy smiled, but not in his arrogant, smug way. He put his gloved hand on the Australian's cheek and could almost feel his heart pound against his palm there. 

Sniper put his hand on top of the Frenchman and leaned to him. Spy only had to make the rest of the way to meet with his desire.


	13. Spy's massage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Sniper is a lone man, talks very little even asa kid. When we gets hurt he doesn't say anything, he doesnt whine, he doesn't want to be a bother. But his back hurts a lot. Sniper (tries to) ignores the pain as always, but Spy notices. And he tries to convince Sniper to let him give him a massage because the pain is affecting his job. So yeah, just a massage, a professional one. But Spy's hands touch just the right places, and the ambience is amazing, and maybe that massage has a happy ending❤️🐑"

The tall man grumbled. 

He wished the windowsills were higher so that he didn't have to spend his day slouched that way. He sometimes would sit on a wooden crate but that would end up giving him a sore bottom. Everyday, for every battle, the choice was there: sore bottom or back pain?

That day, he had gone for back pain with a side of slight headache, the former causing the latter. 

Sniper took his shots, his jaw clenching and his shoulder contracting more than was necessary to compensate for the pain in his back. He reloaded and shot again. The cycles of reloads and shots spiralling for the entire duration of the match, along with his pain growing and his posture degrading.

After the battles, he went back to spawn and put his rifle in his locker. It needed a good clean but he just wanted a hot shower and a nap, or maybe just lying down for a while. He put his hand on his shoulder and tried massaging himself but of course, it was to no avail. A massage only works if one is completely resting while someone else did the job. 

Had he been back home, he would have asked his mother. But she was thousands of miles away and he knew that calling her wouldn't help. 

Sniper walked back through the base.

Nah, it wouldn't help. She would worry from far away and he didn't want to be a bother for anyone and especially not his dear mother. What about his father then? Nah, he would get told off for sure. 

"Told ya, gunman's no proper job, son. And you'll get hurt."

"Dad, it's only back pain…" 

"Does it hurt or not? It does! And is it because of shootin'? Yeah it is! So the point stands." 

He opened his van's door and shook his head as if to shake away his father's voice that echoed in the walls of his mind. This entire discussion had rolled in his head as if he had it for real. 

Sniper threw his hat and sleeveless jacket away before sinking on his couch. Oh it was an old, worn out thing that couldn't possibly be less comfortable. He wouldn't usually mind but he twisted his back left and right, trying to find a position that would hurt him the least. 

"Bugger…" 

He unbuttoned his polo shirt and slid a hand behind his back. It hurt… The pain growing stronger and weaker under the waves of his hand.

Knock, knock. 

He raised his eyes to the door. Sniper hadn't heard anyone come to the door, which immediately gave away the identity of his visitor. He rose from the couch and, his hand still behind his back, he opened the door. 

"Hey, Spy, what d'you want?" He asked. 

The Australian watched as his colleague's face went from his usual suave smile to something else, something between distress and rage.

"Bonjour first maybe? And I'm sorry to interrupt, I shall come back later." The French accent was strong, not too much, but thicker than usual.

"What do you think you're interruptin'?" Sniper asked, confused.

"Well, look at you! Your shirt is open, your hair is completely disorganised, you are not even wearing your hat or your glasses!" 

The tone of the Frenchman's voice had grown louder and louder as he spoke. By the end of his sentence, he sounded irritated. Sniper's eyes snapped wide. Why was Spy being so pissed off?

"W-wait, what?!"

The Frenchman sighed and lowered his head. 

"Nevermind, Sniper, nevermind. Forget it. Forget… me."

He turned on his heels and walked away, shoving his hands in his pockets angrily.

"Spy, wait!" 

The Frenchman turned to face him.

"Non, Sniper. I'm going back to my room. See you, maybe."

"Ugh, bugger…" 

As if his day wasn't bad enough, he had to give the wrong impression and piss off his only friend… Sniper grumbled and fell deep in thoughts. 

Need to apologise and tell him… 

The Australian went to the Frenchman's room and knocked. 

There was a moment before Spy opened.

"And you have the nerve to come to my door?" Spy asked.

"Spook, there was no one with me, I was alone! Can I come in and explain now, please!?" 

Spy lowered his head and opened his door wider, as if to invite Sniper in. He entered and the Frenchman shut the door after him.

"What the-?! You're the one expectin' someone!" Sniper exclaimed his arms extended towards the unusual object standing in the room. 

Spy had all the lights off apart from the flames of the fireplace and… some candles? Sniper looked around him. The Frenchman had put candles here and there and there was a gentle smell in the air… It smelled like a forest, fresh trees and leaves. But the most bizarre thing was the physiotherapy table there in the middle of it all.

"Indeed I was expecting someone. And he arrived." Spy answered, very calmly, with a smile.

"Well, as someone said, if I'm botherin' ya in the middle of somethin', I might as well leave…"

"Non." 

Spy stood between the Australian and the door. 

"You imbécile, I was waiting for you." 

"What?!" Sniper was utterly confused. "What the bloody hell's all this?!" 

"It's to relieve you. I do believe your back is killing you."

"How did-mh!?" Spy had put his index finger on his colleague's lips. 

"Had I gone to your van and just asked you to come, you would have said you were too tired and you would have refused. So I had to think of another way to make you come out of your den of a camper van." Spy explained with a smirk and Sniper's eyebrows shot up. 

"Now, don't make me get angry for real this time and go to my bathroom. You'll find a pair of shorts that I might have borrowed from your van. Put them on and come back here, lie down on the table."

Spy released his finger on his friend's lips and nodded his head towards his bathroom. Sniper thought he was hallucinating or dreaming. What the bloody hell was all that?!

He did obey though, in a brain-dead way. He went to the Frenchman's bathroom and found his old pair of grey short on the edge of the sink. He closed the door and slipped them on. When he came back, the Frenchman was waiting. He had removed his jacket and vest, his tie had gone too and he had opened the first few buttons of his shirt as well as rolled up his sleeves. 

Sniper looked at the physio bed and back at his colleague. Spy's eyes were riveted on the bed. He had noticed how prude his friend was and how he wrapped his arms around himself and hunched his back, as if it hid his bare chest and back. 

"Where did you ever find this…?" 

"I borrowed it from Medic."

"You nicked it from Medic?" 

"I intend to give it back. So it's a loan that he might not be completely aware of. Now, please, lay down." 

"Roight…" 

Sniper had gone too far to refuse. He lied on his stomach. 

"Bien, put your arms along your chest, that's it, very good. Now, my hands are a bit cold but they will warm up, bear with me for a while."

"Alroight…"

"Shush, you close your eyes and don't think about anything." 

"Spy?" 

"What did I just say, Bushman?"

"Can you lock yer door though…?" 

Spy sighed with a smile. 

"Fine." The Frenchman moved to the door and locked it. He came back and removed his socks. 

"Why the hell…?"

"And to think that you are the least sociable of us. Now you never stop talking…" Spy said. "But to answer you, I cannot proceed if my feet are not in contact with the ground." 

Sniper heard the noise of some liquid being squeezed between Spy's hands and then he felt them on his back. 

"When you massage someone, you are not just running your hands on someone's body. You are in a way taking the tension from that person, onto you, in your palms and your fingers. But all this strain, you have to throw it somewhere. I do believe it circulates through my body and I'm giving it away to the ground through my feet and the wooden floor." 

Spy's voice was soothing Sniper. 

"Also, I do hope you like the smell. I didn't have kangaroo and desert scented candles, but I thought that fresh forest would do."

"Spy… Your hands…" 

"They're getting warmer now with the friction." 

"No… They're… bloody… good…" 

Spy smiled. 

"Let me know where it hurts."

"Top, go all the way up."

Spy slid his hands left and right from his friend's spine, his feet anchored in the floor and his eyes closed. 

"Shoulder blades… please… and shoulders…"

"Fine." 

Spy took more oil in his hands and went for it. The Australian grunted and moaned under the Frenchman's efficient hands. He felt like some dough being rolled and kneaded. He had no idea Spy could be that skilled with his hands. Sniper was waving and rolling in his mind, his eyes closed, the smell of the candles and of the oil gently washing him from the inside. 

And it lasted a long time, in silence. Spy thought that after the racket of the battlefield, the solitary hunter that Sniper was would appreciate some peace and quiet.

"Spy…?"

"Hm?" 

"Talk…"

"What do you want me to say?" 

"Any… Thing… Just… Talk…" 

Spy's smile widened. His friend sounded so different. 

"Well, I can start by asking you if you don't mind turning on your back."

"Five… More… Minutes…"

Had Spy not been used to keeping his emotions for himself, he would have chuckled at least. 

"Fine." 

His hands traced circles and loops, his palms pressed, his fingers following closely. 

"Oooh… Spy… How…?" 

"Sshh… Just enjoy." He whispered. 

He kneaded his back slowly, paying attention to not neglect a single muscle. All of them were massaged and accounted for. Spy bent to Sniper's ear:

"I want to see your face now, mon beau." 

Sniper's eyes snapped open. He turned on his back and saw Spy upside down, bending above his head and smiling. 

"What's that mean?" The Australian asked. 

"What?" Spy put a bit of oil in the middle of his palm and rubbed his hands together. He put his hands on his friend's collarbones and massaged down. 

"Mon beau?" Sniper repeated with a twisted accent. 

As Spy pushed his hand down Sniper's chest, his back slowly bent down until his mouth ended up next to the Australian's ear. He whispered:

"Literally, my handsome one." 

Sniper's eyes popped wide open and his heart accelerated. His friend's hands on his naked chest didn't help and the Australian turned red as a brick. 

"Breathe slowly, I can feel your heart pounding." 

Spy's hands were working wonders on Sniper's chest and stomach, such that his entire body had no choice but to indeed relax. 

When the Frenchman finished with the torso, his fingers moved to the Australian's face. Sniper looked at him, still seeing him upside down, with questioning eyes. 

"Close your eyes." Spy whispered. 

"I-I can't." 

Their faces were a few inches apart. 

"Yes, you can, just trust me." 

Sniper took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He felt Spy's fingers on his chin, his cheeks, below his eyes, his temples and his brow. He repeated the motion for entire minutes without tiring, sometimes spending more time on Sniper's cheeks, next to his both hideous and attractive sideburns… 

Spy moved around the table and slowed the movements down. Sniper felt that something was going on. He opened his eyes. The Frenchman's face was above the Australian's. Their eyes locked. 

Sniper saw Spy's eyes. They were half-closed and blinked very slowly, the long dark eyelashes brushing the air like the wings of a butterfly. 

"Thank you." Sniper whispered. He didn't want to break the silence too hard. 

"It is my pleasure…" Spy brushed his friend's cheek down and stopped next to his mouth. 

"You're the weirdest bloke I've ever met. Stealin' this bed, puttin' on a show with the candles, the smell, and the comedy you played back at my van…"

"Qu'est-ce je ne ferais pas par amour?" 

[What wouldn't I do out of love?]

"What's that mean?" 

Spy ignored Sniper's question and his fingertips moved closer to his lips. The Australian smiled and lifted his hand to put it on top of the Frenchman's. 

"I'm sorry I can't say it in French but uh…"

"If you can't say it, make me understand it… Show me…"

Sniper's fingers laced between his friend's and his heart beat fast. He put his other hand behind the Frenchman's neck and pulled him in closer.

The Frenchman rolled his eyes up when Sniper's lips touched his. All he had wanted was to help the poor man who was too shy to ask for anything. But now the Australian was saying thanks, and maybe something else…?


	14. Touchstarved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Another sniperspy hc! Hope you lije this one too! (if u wanna write it ofc dont wanna pressure u!). Spy has anxiety, a little, but still has it; and it mostly shows when he is touchstarved. He gets nervous and a little overwhelmed but he hides it trying to play it cool. He stays in his room in the ceasefires all alone but that just makes things worse. He needs cuddles, but he'll neer admit it, never asks for them. And it gets worse. And Spy breaks, just a little, but Snipes notices and helps❤️🐑"

"Oh, Scout, please, go fuck yourself." 

The young man insisted. 

"Spy, c'mon man, you-"

"I said: go fuck yourself."

"You can't just say that?!"

Spy was in his room. All the lights were off, only the dancing flames of the fireplace lit his smoking room. The Frenchman was sitting on his armchair, a glass of wine in his hand and an annoyed look on his face. 

"Scout if you stand behind my door one more second, I will push every single blade I have into you, in places where you couldn't possibly pull them out." 

He answered, his teeth gritted and his jaw clenched angrily. 

"Jeez, fine…!" 

The Frenchman was  _ pissed off _ . He had played his part very poorly that day and even though his colleagues respected him enough to not mention it, he could see it in their eyes. He had disappointed them, and he could hardly look at himself in the mirror for it. 

There was one pair of eyes that was stuck in his mind. Those lagoon blue eyes had dwelled on him for the entire duration of his dinner, they had spoken louder that any voice.

What Spy needed was red wine, a strong, almost bitter château. Ah, some cheap Spanish one would do. There were very few occasions the Frenchman would betray his country: when he needed the alcohol to sting his soul from the inside was one of them. He just needed something to hurt him physically, something that transferred the pain from his soul to somewhere he could point at, on his body. 

Spy emptied the glass and poured more, grunting. The strong sourness hurt the back of his throat. Good. He threw his gloves away and undid his tie. It flew straight to the floor. He had removed his jacket and his vest and was now undoing the first couple of buttons on his shirt. 

The Frenchman was sitting on the edge of his armchair, his elbows planted on his thighs and his head hanging low. He wasn't proud of himself and he didn't have the energy to pretend that he was in front of his colleagues, so his isolation in the deafening silence and darkness of his lonely room was the best course of action. 

He put a hand on his face and let it sink from his brow down to his chin. A knock interrupted him. 

"Scout, no respawn will fix what I am about to do to you." He said angrily.

"It's not Scout." A muffled voice answered across the door. 

"Leave me alone." He answered, as if he didn't know who it was, as if he hadn't recognised that voice. 

"C'mon, open the door."

"Non, go away."

"I won't." 

Spy heard a thud and rolled his eyes. He knew the man behind that door could be awfully patient. He could picture him, sat down on the Frenchman's doormat, his back against the wall. That was the thud, he had dropped himself on the other side of the door with the knife symbol. And Spy knew he could wait there for hours.

"I am not up for games. Go back to your van." 

"Neither am I. I didn't come to play anythin' with you." 

Silence fell. Spy wondered while his visitor pulled his hat in front of his face to block the light from the corridor and rest his eyes more comfortably. He had all his time. He knew his own patience could match Spy's ego. So he waited, sat there, like a homeless man would find shelter under the front facade of a shop when it rains. He waited, his eyes closed and his hat on his eyes.

The man with the absurdly long legs let them flow in front of him. He didn't know how long he had been waiting but the base had gone totally silent. The light in the corridor had switched off a long time ago now. 

Inside the room, the Frenchman had stopped drinking since his visitor had sat there. 

Spy grumbled and stood up. He went to the door, making sure that his footsteps could be heard. The visitor opened his eyes and unstuck his back from the door. The footsteps stopped. There was a moment of hesitation before the doorknob twisted and the door opened. 

Spy looked down. 

"Come in. Don't stay sat there."

The man under the hat stood up and straightened his back before entering. Spy quickly shut the door after him. 

"What do you want?" The Frenchman asked. 

"To not let you get pissed alone. And on cheap wine at that…" 

Sniper had gone next to the sofa and took the bottle of wine in his hand to read the label. The Frenchman almost regretted the wine tasting lessons to his colleague.

"This is shite wine, Spy, what's your problem?"

Spy sat on the sofa. 

"None of your concern." 

Sniper sat down next to him.

"Yeah, it's none of anyone's business but yours, you're right. So what is it?"

The Frenchman put his fingers on his temples. Now that they were both facing the flames, Sniper could see him better. He looked disheveled, his shirt open, without a tie and a miserable look on his face. Had it not been for the taylor-made shirt and trousers, the Australian would have looked better dressed.

"I know you did shit today. And I also know it doesn't look like you. You're better than that, I know it and you do too. So what's special about today?"

The Frenchman sighed. 

"Again, none of your concern."

"Is it your birthday or somethin'?"

Spy shot him a murderous glance. He was nowhere near the point where he could appreciate any joke. His icy blue eyes split the dark room sharply, like the sheen of the short blades he liked so much. 

"You don't want to say, eh?"

"Non, I don't."

"So why did you let me in?"

"To not let you rot on my doormat."

"Pfff, even Scout could lie better than that." Sniper answered and it did strike a nerve. The Frenchman clenched his jaw. 

"If you didn't let me in to talk, it's cause you need somethin' else."

Sniper stood up and headed to the small kitchen area in his colleague's flat. 

"Now, I'm gonna make us some herbal tea. It won't make you talk but it'll help your nerves." 

The Australian kept the lights off. He filled a kettle with water and put in on the stove to heat up. When the water boiled, he poured it in 2 mugs and took 2 tea bags out of his pocket. Spy's eyebrows jumped. Those teabags showed that Sniper had prepared himself and hadn't come by chance or politeness. His mind was set to help the bitter Frenchman. 

A minute later, he brought the two mugs. He handed one to his colleague and that's when he realised that Spy wasn't wearing his gloves. Sniper's brow furrowed for a short instant. Observant as he was, Spy saw it. 

They both took a sip. 

"Something's the matter, Sniper?"

"Well that's cheeky. You're the one who has a problem obviously and you ask  _ me  _ if  _ something's the matter?"  _

"You frowned. I'm just curious." 

"I'll tell you what made me frown if you tell me what's pissin' you off like that."

Spy sighed. 

"Today is not a good day for personal reasons." He answered. 

"That doesn't tell me anythin', Spook." 

"Well, too bad, I will not disclose more of it." 

And silence fell again, that was only interrupted by their sips. But they soon finished their drink. Sniper leaned back on the sofa. 

"So that's what you do when you're pissed off? Get drunk on shit wine, alone, in the dark?" 

Spy didn't want to react but of course it affected him. He knew he looked miserable and hearing it being said aloud did not help. Sniper sat up and put his hand on Spy's thigh, right above his knee. 

"You're not wearin' yer gloves. That's why I frowned." 

The Frenchman double-checked and yes indeed. He didn't even think about his gloves when he opened the door. It hurt him even more. 

Sniper took Spy's hand in his and opened its palm. 

"Bushman!"

"Oh c'mon, it's only yer hand! I just want to see it better." 

He tilted it such that he could see it well.

"Y'know I can read the lines there. Wanna know what they say?" 

The Frenchman didn't answer. 

"Well, they say that it doesn't matter if you don't tell me what your problem is." 

Sniper moved closer to his friend. 

"You need someone to help, because you're not making it out of this on yer own. And shit alcohol won't do either." 

Spy raised his eyes to finally look at his colleague with something else in his eyes than blind rage. The way that Sniper traced the lines on his hand, how he delicately handle his palm, it all surprised him. The man lived in a van, in the most rustic way, yet he was holding his hand like he would a delicate flower. The tickling of his index tracing the lines through Spy's palm was almost poetic. 

The Frenchman hid his face with his other hand. 

"Hey…" 

Sniper got even closer. Now their thighs were touching and Spy felt an arm wrap around his back, pulling him to his friend. Without a second thought, he bent on his side and leaned on Sniper's side, his head below the Australian's chin, closing his eyes. 

The marksman got surprised by the suddenness but didn't question it and hugged his friend, lacing his other arm on his left shoulder.

"I don't care why you're annoyed. I just want it to stop. No one wants to see you like that. I watched you during dinner. You were fumin' with rage and you didn't eat much. 's not good."

The vibrations of Sniper's voice travelled through the Frenchman and made his insides relax. There was something about his voice and the embrace. Spy needed more of it. He wrapped his arms around Sniper and buried his head deeper in his friend's chest. He wanted to say something, anything! But the words failed him. 

"So that's what you needed all along? A good hug?" 

Of course, Spy stayed mute. Was his clinging to his friend's polo shirt not enough of an answer? 

But suddenly Spy felt Sniper moving, pulling him. His eyes snapped open as he followed his friend's movements, not really understanding what he was doing. Sniper kept him close all along and soon stopped moving, when he was laying on his back, on the sofa, his feet dangling off of it. Spy was on top of him, his arms still around Sniper's sides and his head below his chin. That way, the Australian couldn't see how hard he was frowning… 

The Frenchman would never admit how much he loved the embrace. And Sniper's hand brushing his back and his other one behind his head... Non, Sniper had understood what Spy needed and wordlessly obliged, without the grumpy one even having to ask. 

There was a blanket on the nearby armchair. The Australian extended his arm and took it. The next thing Spy knew, he was sandwiched between the softness of the duvet and the warmth of Sniper's body.

He squeezed Sniper tighter for an instant. 

"You're welcome. Now, try and get some sleep, will ya?" 

Spy raised his head of his friend's chest and looked him in the eye. 

"Merci." [Thank you.] 

Sniper was looking at him with a smile. He cupped Spy's head and left a silent kiss on his forehead, on the fabric of the mask. Spy's eyes opened wide. With one hand he swiftly removed the mask and threw it away, and ignoring Sniper's total shock, he looked up at him and asked him with his eyes… 

The Australian took a second to process what had just happened and he devoured his friend's face with his eyes. He put his palms on the Frenchman's naked cheeks and slid his fingers up through his hair. Spy closed his eyes, focusing on the touch on his face. He was really just thanking that one man whose patience was infinite with him. 

Sniper pulled him and kissed, not his forehead.

  
  
  
  
  



	15. Huntless - (Sequel of Chapter 3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Chapter 3!  
> "part 2: electric boogaloo why spy doesn't go hunting with sniper"

“Morning, darl’.”

Mundy kissed his lover’s head as he sat down next to him for breakfast.

“Bonjour, mon amour.”

[Good morning, my love.]

As soon as his companion sat down, Lucien stood up off his chair and took a seat on Mundy’s lap. 

“Oh?”

The Frenchman laced his arms around his lover and buried his head in his chest.

“You alroight, luv’?”

“Oui, I just love you.”

Mundy put his coffee mug back on the table and wrapped his arms around the Frenchman.

“Someone’s cuddly this morning.”

Lucien smiled against his lover’s chest. 

“You took too long to wake up.” His muffled voice said and the former Sniper chuckled.

“Oh, c’mon I only woke up like what, ten minutes after you?”

“Fifteen. I missed you.”

Mundy squeezed the sentimental Frenchie harder between his arms.

“Is this a strategy to make me feed you your breakfast?”

Lucien looked up.

“Maybe…?”

“Roight, let me prepare a toast for her majesty…”

The Australian took a piece of bread and spread the butter on it.

“Lu’, here…”

He held the piece of bread in front of his beloved’s mouth and the cuddly panther bit it.

“Hm-hmm!” He hummed his thanks.

“You’re welcome, gorgeous.” Mundy took a bit of it himself. “So, got any plans for today?”

“Stay in your arms…” Lucien gulped down and stared at the piece of bread his lover was holding. The Australian understood and fed him again. “You?”

“Well, I guess I’ll keep you in my arms then.”

Lucien’s face radiated with a sweet smile.

“Although I guess we could go shopping. The cupboards are almost empty and same for the fridge.”

“Later. I want to have you for myself for the entire day.”

“You had me the entire night, which nearly turned it into a sleepless one!”

“Dare tell me you didn’t like it.” The Frenchman whispered in Mundy’s ear and the tall man stopped spreading the butter on the next toast. He looked down at his lover.

“You know I loved it. It lasted the entire night and you - Oh, don’t make me talk about it, you-you know I can’t…!”

Lucien smirked.

“And yet I nearly had you there.”

“Y-yeah. But yeah, last night was a treat, thanks, luv’.”

Mundy kissed his lover’s brow and heard him pur.

“May I ask you something,  _ mon amour?” _

“O’course.”

“Why do you never take me with you when you go hunting?”

“What?”

“You always leave me alone for hours and… Well, I can hardly do anything. It’s like I am missing a part of myself and I am constantly thinking about you. There is not a single second that passes without me wondering if you are well, if there isn’t anything I could do to ensure you can’t possibly be happier. Your… Your absence, it hurts me here, in my chest and-”

“Lu’?”

“And I sometimes sit on my own, in the living-room. The clock is ticking behind me. It sounds like it’s counting the time that I am not spending with you.”

“Lucien?”

“And all that time, all those ticks and those tocks, no one is going to give them back to me, do you understand?”

Mundy held his lover’s chin and looked deep in his eyes.

“You and your sense of drama and romance…” He pulled Lucien’s chin to his lips and kissed him. The Frenchman held onto his lover’s t-shirt firmly and crossed his feet hard, feeling the rush of blood to his head. 

“You know Mundy, each time you kiss me, I feel it as if it were the first day. I have the same butterflies in my stomach, the same warmth and… the same desire in me.”

“What’s that?”

“I just want you…” He clung on his lover harder.

“Listen darl’, I never said no to you coming along when I go hunting.”

“But why do I always find myself alone then?”

“Because you never said you wanted to join me, Lu’.”

“You never asked, I thought you didn’t want me to come with you.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You tell me, I don’t know! You're used to hunt alone and I thought you don't want someone interfering!"

Both sighed.

“Y’know what?”

“What?”

“Next time, I’ll take you with me.”

“Really?”

“O’course. I’d love you to come along.”

Lucien happily snuggled up against his lover’s chest.

“Such a drama queen you are, it’s unbelievable.” Mundy chuckled.

“I'm sorry…"

“Don't be…" Mundy brushed his lover's hair with his fingers and Lucien closed his eyes under the touch. "If anythin', I… I like it when you're like that."

Lucien opened his eyes again. 

"Shows that you love me an awful lot, eh?"

"I love you more than you can imagine, and more than I can explain." 

"Same fer me, luv', same for me…" 

The Frenchman clung with all his limbs to his lover and nuzzled in his neck. Mundy hummed happily under the touch and hugged his favourite clingy panther until… 

"Careful with yer fangs, darlin'..."

"Or what…?"

"Or I'll use mine and we won't go shoppin' anytime soon."

Lucien chuckled. 

_ "You can but try…"  _ He whispered. "Oh! Mundy!" 

In a flash, the Australian stood up and carried his lover in his arms. Lucien wrapped his legs around his lover's waist. 

"Mon Dieu, what are you doing?" 

"Round two of last night…" Mundy growled.

Lucien bit his lip and rolled his eyes.

  
  



	16. The reception

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new type of challenge here, include these few lines in a short story:
> 
> "This has got to be the most conspicuous scheme you've ever planned out."
> 
> "I'm well aware of that, yes," He said, taking the lighter out off his breast pocket. "And in your case, you really don't look the part."
> 
> "You told me to wear something decent," Mundy replied, looking over to his clothes. "Didn't know we had a dress code, mate."

* * *

"You are absolutely sure you can handle this with me?" 

"Yeah, doesn't sound too hard."

Spy and Sniper were in the shade of the Australian's van.

" _ Bien _ . You remember my instructions. When we get to the reception, you become-"

"A plant, exactly like of those cacti around us now, yeah, I got it. I'm not the talkative type anyway." Sniper cut him.

"I know. But I need to make sure that you do not interfere unless I ask you to."

"I get it."

Spy puffed on his cigarette. 

"It is not everyday that I have an additional contract on top of the Mann Co. one, but France insisted that I should be the one dealing with it."

"So what are you supposed to do?" 

"Follow a man and listen in. He might give away the name of his buyers he sells weapons to, or even better, meet him."

"Oh, roight."

"It's a friend who is still working for the secret services in France who needs this done. I happen to be close by and the most competent ex-spy."

"Ex-spy?" Sniper repeated. 

"Oui, I am a mercenary now. I no longer work for the French government, I have retired quite a few years ago now."

"Oh, I didn't know…"

"Hm." Spy exhaled a thin cloud of smoke.

"And what am  _ I _ supposed to do?" 

"Be my backup. You are extremely skilled when it comes to observing. This is why I want to bring you in. I have a description of the man I'm after but should his partner show up, I want to be able to remember every detail of him."

"Okay…" Sniper didn't show it but he had deeply appreciated the compliment his colleague made him.

The Frenchman took a look at his watch. "We should start our preparations. I will come and pick you up in an hour or so." 

Spy walked away. 

"Oi, wait. What do you mean  _ 'preparations'?" _

The Frenchman stopped sharp and turned to face his colleague. 

"I am not taking you with me in this state. Bushman, this is an infiltration mission first. We need to blend in, especially  _ you. _ "

"What?" 

"You promised to be as discreet as a plant and not attract any attention. Besides, if someone came to talk to me, I would know how to handle it. But you…?"

"Oi, I know how to do small talk."

"With kangaroos no doubt. We are talking about human beings  _ in a reception party _ in the most luxurious hotel in the city." 

"Alroight, alroight…" Sniper nodded.

" _ Bien. _ I will be back later."

Spy disappeared and Sniper walked in his van. 

_ What the hell should I put on then…? _

An hour and a half later, there was a knock on the van's door. 

"Oh, hey Spook, you're very late. I thought you had decided to go without me and you left me here in the end."

Spy eyed his friend from the bottom up. 

"And yet you are still wearing… What is  _ that _ exactly…?" Spy's eyes went up and down quickly on his friend's attire.

"It's a suit, you genius. Can't you see?" 

"That is nothing like a suit, Bushman. But as you mentioned, we are late so we don't have time to change anything, come follow me." 

They hopped in the most expensive car Sniper had ever stepped a foot in and the Frenchman floored it. 

About half an hour later, Spy parked his car. The desertic landscape got replaced by a busy city centre in night time, and in the expensive neighbourhood. The Frenchman's vehicle now looked completely normal as it was surrounded by other James Bond-like models. 

"Right, Bushman, here we are… Bushman?" Spy turned his face. His colleague had dozed off. 

"Mon Dieu…" The Frenchman put his hand on his friend's shoulder and nudged him. "Réveille-toi, la Belle aux Bois Dormant… We have arrived." 

[Wake up, Sleeping Beauty…]

Sniper opened his eyes and looked to his colleague. 

"ARGH? Who the hell're you?!"

"Sniper! It's me!" 

"Where's yer mask?!"

"You don't expect me to get inside with a mask on, do you?" 

Sniper couldn't open his eyes wider even if he had wanted to.

"Let's go, Sniper."

The two mercenaries entered the luxurious hotel where the reception was held. 

"This has got to be the most conspicuous scheme you've ever planned out." Sniper said.

"I'm well aware of that, yes," Spy said, taking the lighter out off his breast pocket. "And in your case, you really don't look the part."

"You told me to wear something decent," Sniper replied, looking over to his clothes. "Didn't know we had a dress code, mate."

Spy rolled his eyes and continued walking in. Sniper followed him and looked left and right, up and down.

"Christ, Spook, this is-"

"Lucien. Call me Lucien."

"Whot?"

The Frenchman looked quickly left and right before turning to face his friend. He closed the gap between them.

"Wouldn't it be compromising to call me with my class name here?" He raised an eyebrow. 

"Ah, yeah, fair. I'm Mundy, then." 

"Good. Now, let me find our man." 

They walked through the horde of suits and dresses. Mundy's eyes never left his colleague. A white suit, dark red shirt, white bowtie and matching, polished shoes. And that was just for his clothes. The Frenchman's face and hair were fantastic, the Australian couldn't take his eyes off of him.

"Mundy?"

"Huh?"

"That's him. That's the man." 

"The bloke with the dark blue suit?" 

"Oui, himself. Tony his name is. He owns a few private islands. He apparently plays golf every Saturday.”

“That’s one hell of a rich bloke…!”

“ I will get closer. You stay here and try not to end up drunk on the champagne."

"I don't drink that posh filth…" 

A waiter happened to pass and Lucien took a glass with a smirk. 

"Now, Bushman, watch and learn…" 

Mundy rolled his eyes with a smile. His colleague got closer to his target without getting too near. The Australian watched as the Frenchman talked to people here and there, carding his hair back nonchalantly and sipping on his champagne. 

_ Bloody hell… He is gorgeous and he knows it, the bastard… _

His demeanour, his body language and his gaze showed a man who knew perfectly what he was doing, like a fish swimming in his pond.

A waiter passed by the Australian and he took a canape. He was watching his colleague like a movie. His eyes went to the target, he was talking to a man in a black suit. Mundy observed him keenly but he was a bit too far to clearly see his face.

Sniper walked to get a bit closer and stood against the wall. He looked left and right. 

_ Where the hell is Spy now…? _

He had lost sight of him and frowned, his eyes scanning the crowd to find the man in the white suit, to no avail. 

"What the…?" 

The Frenchman was nowhere to be seen. Mundy's eyes came back to the target. He was now accompanied not only by the man in the black suit but also by a lady in a red dress. No good-looking man in a white attire around… 

Mundy stopped and put his hands on his hips. His eyes followed the walls until…

_ Oh, bugger… _

He went to the man sat on a bench against the wall. 

"Something's wrong?" 

"I have seen enough. I need to proceed." 

"Well let's go then, why are you sat there lookin’ miserable…?”

Lucien held his head low. 

“The target.” He said.

“Yeah, what about him?”

“Not him.”

“The bloke in the black suit?”

“Non.”

“The sheila, then?”

Lucien’s silence was an answer in itself. After a long moment, he eventually uttered a sentence.

“Now I know. You are right, Mundy, let us proceed.”

“No.” The Australian sat down. “Tell me what it is.”

“Non. It is a personal matter.”

“What is it about that sheila? You know her, I guess… Oh, don’t tell me you… and her?”

“We have history, not a good one.”

“D’you think she saw you?” Mundy raised his eyes to look at her. “Oh crikey, she’s starin’, yes, yes she did…”

The Australian looked at his friend.

“Forget about it, Lucien, let’s go, she’s not taking her eyes off you.”

“I… I can’t.”

Mundy’s eyebrows jumped. He started to understand how serious Lucien’s business with that lady must have been.

“What d’you mean you can’t? Just get up and let’s get back to the base!”

“I can hardly… speak… I can’t. My legs…”

Mundy saw the sweat break on Lucien’s forehead. Whatever the story was, it left the Frenchman paralysed on his seat, his light blue eyes emptied of their life. 

“Take a deep breath.”

Mundy sat closer to his colleague. Never had he seen him express anything but disdain and arrogance. But he now knew what distress looked like on his face and it hurt him in different ways. As obvious as it seemed, of course, Sniper wouldn't wish any of his friends to be in a predicament. But more than that, to see the secretive Spy crack like a vase and see the sorrow leak out of him that way got to him in a particular way, especially when he was so well dressed. 

Sniper, like the rest of the team, knew that Spy was handsome. But seeing him dressed up to the nine certainly had an effect on him.

“Here, take my car and go back to the base.” The Frenchman was handing him his car keys.

“Whot? No, I’m not going back without you.”

“Mundy-”

“No! Whatever she did to you, I’m not leaving you behind, you look like you’ll either die here or kill her.”

“It’s not her I have something to settle with only. She…”

Mundy put his hand on Lucien’s shoulder.

“She went away from you?”

“It’s for her I decided to take an early retirement. She… She sold the ring I offered her and now she wears another one. This man, our target. It’s a favour I asked from my old colleagues at the Ministry. It took years to find him but I won’t let my chance go.”

Lucien pushed himself to stand on his feet. His eyes shone furiously.

“This is my business, Mundy. Go back to the base.”

“I think you didn’t hear me, mate.”

Lucien watched as his friend stand up. 

“I’m not leaving you. You wanna re-arrange his ugly mug? I’ll help you.”

The Frenchman raised an eyebrow. 

“Mundy, this will surely end my career in Mann Co. and my life as a free man. Go back to the base.”

“No. You won’t do any of that, I got a better idea. What’s the bloke’s name again? Tony?”

“Oui, why are you asking?”

“Watch this…”

The Australian walked towards them.

“Mundy! Mund-argh…” The Australian ignored his colleague and walked decidedly to the man in the blue suit and his lady. “What does he think he is doing?”

Lucien squinted to see better, he needed to get closer. He used the crowd to cover him. As he walked, the spy stole a hat here, a satin scarf there. He removed his jacket and flipped it inside out in a quick and fluid sleight of hand, like an old Houdini who had seen it all already. He saw Mundy grab two glasses of champagne. 

By the time Lucien got close enough to hear the conversations of his target and the lady, his appearance had changed almost completely and his ex-partner did not recognise him. He took a glass of champagne himself and pretended to sip on it while he watched and listened keenly.

“Excuse me, I think you’ll find you’re holdin’ hands with my date here.” 

Lucien’s eyes opened wide and he diverted his gaze to hide his surprise. Did the shy lonely Australian really say that?!

“Uh, I don’t know you and see this ring? I am engaged, you must be mistaken.” The lady in the red dress answered.

_ American accent… _ Mundy thought.  _ An awful lot these people are. _

“I wasn’t talkin’ to you, sheila.” Mundy gave one of the two champagne glasses to the man. “Tony, darl’, you’ll be delighted.” The Australian laced his arm around the shocked man's shoulder. “I’ve arranged the room for tonight, we should be in our usual suite.”

Lucien’s jaw dropped and might as well have hit the floor. He watched as Sniper poked the man’s tip of his nose and winked at him with the most smug smile.

“Tony, love, what is this all about?!” The lady asked.

“Sweetie, I swear I don’t know this man, I’ve never met him in my life!”

“ _ Love?!” _ Mundy repeated angrily. “I’m sorry honey but can you tell her to leave us alone? She’s annoyin’...”

“Look, Sir, I don’t know you and-”

“Tony, darlin’ now, what are we sayin’, eh? All the Saturdays in the golf park, just you and me, hm? D’you remember when we did it in the club? Oh that was excitin’, eh!” 

“How does he know your name if you don’t know him?! And about the golf? Did you- Tony, I’m ending this!”

“What?! All these are lies! Mary, I swear I didn’t do any of this!”

_ She’s called Mary…  _ The Australian noted.

Tony pushed Mundy away and the Australian made himself scarce.

“No, this is it Tony!” Mary angrily threw the ring on the floor. “To think we were about to get married and you were having an affair… With a man at that?! Fuck you!”

The lady’s angry fit made everyone in the vicinity stop and look at them. She walked away and the man tried to catch up with her. Lucien was left speechless. He felt something drag him from his sleeve and let his friend guide him out.

A few minutes later, the Australian was behind the Frenchman’s car steering wheel.

“And you thought I couldn’t handle myself on my own… Ya piker.”

“What…? How…?” Lucien asked.

"Don't mess with my mates, simple as that."

"But you…"

The expert manipulator was speechless. Did he dream the whole scene? Surely Sniper, the Sniper he knew,  _ his Sniper _ , didn't just go to a man and pretend to have a relationship with  _ him _ ?!

"It's the look on yer face."

"What?" 

"She really destroyed you, that sheila, didn't she?" 

"Forget that, Bushman! I don't know if I should be grateful to you or shred you to pieces!"

Mundy hit the brakes hard and it hurt the Frenchman as if the car itself could feel the pain. The expensive Italian red car came to a halt in the middle of the night desert.

"Whot?! Oi, I've just prevented you from killin' a bloke in front of a million witnesses?! I think you should be more grateful that angry!"

"But I wanted to kill him!"

"You bloody mad?! This isn't Mann Co.! He won't respawn! With all those people present there and with that Mary girl who had recognised you, you would have ended up in jail!" 

"Oui! Exactly, I know! That is what I meant when I said I was ready to end my life as a free man tonight!" 

"Well then you're stupid! I did better than that and without anyone gettin' hurt or being outside of the law!"

Lucien sighed and Mundy started the car again.

"You are saying that I am mad and stupid but  _ you _ , Bushman,  _ you _ went to Tony and pretended you had a story with  _ him?!  _ Why didn't you go to her?!" 

"You got what you wanted in the end, didn't you? Now their story's broken and their wedding's out the window."

"Oui, but you could have done it the other way around. You could have gone to see her and then  _ he  _ would have broken up with her I guess."

"Y-yeah, I guess so. B-but you told me more about him, like his name and uh, the thing about the golf club. So I could trick her but not him, roight?"

"Oui, it's true." The Frenchman answered. But he had felt it. Something was wrong. He couldn't say what exactly but he shall leave it for the moment. 

"There we are, the base." Sniper parked next to the building. 

"Sniper?" 

"Yeah?" The Australian cut the engine and handed the keys back to his friend. 

"Merci." 

"Well, it wasn't much. And it was fun, we'll remember that one, eh?" He chuckled. 

"Oui, most definitely." Lucien answered. 

Both men exited the car and after wishing a goodnight to each other, they parted ways. 

In his suite, the Frenchman had changed for his pyjamas and was pacing the room. 

_ Something is wrong, most definitely… _

Back until the armchair, forth up until the bedroom door, back to the armchair, and forth until the bedroom door. 

He screwed his eyelids shut. It was all way too wild, way too out of Sniper's character… The man was solitary, socially awkward and not comfortable when facing other human beings. What  _ on Earth _ pushed him to put on such a foolish act?! 

_ What is it… what is it…  _

Spy's eyes snapped wide open. 

_ Non… It can't be…? _

Outside of the base, the Australian was on his van's roof, watching the stars. The events of the evening had made him too excited to sleep so he had decided to soothe his nerves with a beer. 

"Sniper?"

“Huh?”

The marksman looked down from the rooftop.

“Up here, mate.”

“Oh… May I join you? I cannot sleep…”

“Sure, come up.”

Lucien did as he was told and sat next to his friend.

“I see you don’t drink  _ the posh filth _ that is champagne but you prefer beer, hm?” The Frenchman said as his eyes saw the pack of bottles.

“Yeah, have one if you want.”

“Merci. I hope I am not bothering you.”

“Nah, I was just watchin’ the stars.”

“Is that why you are up this late? To watch the stars?”

“Nah… Same as you really, I couldn’t sleep. The evenin’ was a bit uh, chaotic.”

Lucien chuckled.

“I must apologise to you, you would make a devilishly good spy.” 

Mundy tipped his beer with his friend and they both took a swig as they smiled.

“I don’t think I would, though. I’m shit at lyin’.”

“I thought so too, until I saw your performance tonight. You surprised me a lot, Mundy.”

“I-I… I surprised myself too. I didn’t think I was capable of doin’ half the things I did.”

“And yet you did them.”

“Y-yeah… Somehow…”

They drank more of their beer. Both were sitting cross-legged looking at the horizon and the sky.

“Why did you come out?” Mundy asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t sleep and so what d’you do? You come out of yer room and the base to get some fresh air?”

Lucien smiled.

“Ah, non, not exactly to be honest. I wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh?” Mundy blushed.

“I feel like I have not thanked you properly for what you did for me tonight.”

“Y-you don’t need to do anythin’ more. I mean, you took me to the most fancy party ever, I had some good food there, and I saw what it’s like to be a spy in real life, that’s all I wanted.”

“Non.”

“What?”

“It is me who got the privilege to see a formidable spy at work.” Lucien calmly said between two sips. “More than the mere surprise of seeing you put on an act, I am genuinely impressed. It was flawless. You even managed to get us out of there before anyone could wonder where you had gone to. And more importantly than that I guess in this context, you spared me the worst. Had I followed my first intention, that man would be shredded to bits, I would have been arrested and spent the rest of my days behind bars.”

“Spook, I’m sure you’re that good a spy to avoid the police and stuff. You’d have escaped them easily.”

“I would have, if only I wanted to.”

“What d’you mean? You wanted to get arrested?!”

“Non, not exactly. But I had no reasons to want my freedom anymore. Imagine I was arrested and sent to jail. Well, I would have spent my days there, alone as I am in life. Who would care about me? Would would miss me? No one. What would it have changed? Not much.”

“S-Spy, that’s horrible to think… Y-you’re not alone, we’re here, you got your job with us and-”

“Precisely, or almost so. While you were creating a scene, I was thinking about it all in my head and I came to realise a few things. I understood that there was one person I would miss. Do you know why?”

“No…”

“I came to comprehend that I had enjoyed their precious company, that if I was to be separated from them, I would feel the bitter pinch of distress in my heart.” 

Lucien paused and lowered his head.

“What’s more, they… they put everything aside to protect me from myself, to prevent me from doing something that is, yes, extremely satisfying and I’ve been wanting to do that for years, but on the other hand… Maybe it was more stupid that satisfying, maybe that man was sent from up there…” Lucien raised his eyes to the starry night. “maybe he was sent from up there, for me.”

Mundy looked at his friend intensely.

“Mundy, I cannot remember the last time that someone did something half as courageous as you did for me today. I owe you.”

“Oh, uh, n-nah, c’mon, you don’t owe me anythin’. I didn’t do much.”

“Don’t lie. You said it yourself. You did not understand where that impulse came from to do what you did.”

“Y-yeah…”

“Unless you did?” Lucien said, looking at his friend and Mundy diverted his gaze, frowning. 

“No, I don’t.”

The Australian tightened his grip on his bottle of beer.

“All I know is I behaved like a lunatic back there and it felt like the roight thing to do.”

“Did it?”

“Y-yeah.”

“It strikes me as odd that you did not think twice and like that!” Lucien snapped his fingers. “You went ahead and showed yourself publicly,  _ pretending to like a man  _ of all things… Mundy?”

“Hm?” The Australian thanked the darkness of the night. It hid his intense blush. There were words he wished he could say to Lucien, it would explain everything to him. But he couldn’t. There was no way he could. He closed his eyes and consoled himself thinking that in another reality, on another plane of existence, he was sitting on his van’s roof with Lucien and he was telling him  _ the truth. _

“You are a surprise and a half.” 

“You too.”

“Oui, but that is my job. You on the other hand, you have the choice to be who you want.”

_ I wish. _ Mundy thought.

“By the way, pray tell me if I’m keeping you awake and you want to sleep. I would hate to impose myself on you.”

“N-no, nah, it’s alroight. I uh, I like it when we chat.”

“So do I.”

They drank more of the beer.

“Uh, I guess I should apologise, Spook.” 

Lucien’s eyebrows jumped.

“What for?”

“My suit. It wasn’t… y’know, it wasn’t good. It’s the only one I have though, that’s why.”

The Frenchman smiled.

“It is fine. I can make a few recommendations if you want to purchase a new one.”

“Nah, I don’t have any reasons to wear a suit so it’d be throwin’ money away.”

“What if I took you on a wild mission like tonight, hm?” Lucien asked.

“Well then I guess yeah, but it sounded very much like a one-off, wasn’t it?”

“Oui, but what if I took you out for another reason?”

“Why would I need a suit for that?” Mundy asked

“Because of how you looked tonight.” Lucien answered and the Australian felt the rush of blood to his cheeks. 

“Wh-what d’you mean?” Mundy tripped on his words.

“You think I didn’t notice? You made an effort with your clothes, you shaved yourself clean and you combed your hair. You even wore a different cologne, I can still smell it.”

_ No doubt you do… _ Mundy was sweating heavily. Yes, he had spent a long time preparing himself. He wanted not to disappoint his colleague,  _ maybe something else too…? _

“Oh, well, you said to make an effort, so I did… And you did too, your suit was really nice, eh.”

Mundy wished he could say it. Had things been any different, he would tell his friend how handsome he had found him, he would tell him that Mary wasn’t the only one whose eyes were stuck on him. 

“Hm, I didn’t make half the efforts you did, Mundy. Ah, Mundy…”

“What?” He gulped down hard. Hearing his name uttered in that accent, with that voice, by that man…

“It’s an exotic name, I like it. I’ve always had a weakness for the foreign and different.”

“Ah, uh, thanks. Your name’s nice too. Never heard it before.”

“It’s old, nobody is named that way nowadays anymore. I wouldn’t be surprised if I turn out to be the last one of my kind.”

“You’re unique, then.”

Lucien turned to look his friend in the eye.

“So are you. I’ve never heard of a man named Mundy. And what’s more, this man - what am I saying, this legend! - even did the unthinkable. He  _ pretended to love a man _ out in the open, just like that, to help a miserable man, a poor being, lost, stripped off his humanity.”

“I-I’m not that… I’m not a legend, I just helped. And you’re not miserable.”

“You are exceptional, you proved it yet another time tonight. All those times you would come and spend some time with me. All these evenings and afternoons that we spent drinking or smoking and I never realised. But tell me Mundy.”

“Hm?”

“Was what I said correct?”

“N-no, I’m a normal bloke, I-I’m very normal.”

“Not that.”

“What then?”

“Did you  _ pretend?” _

“Did I pretend what?”

“Did you pretend you loved a man?”

“Oi, hold on there, I didn’t know that Tony bloke! I just pretended to make them both pay for what they did to you! How do you want me to know him before?!”

Lucien chuckled.

“Non, you misunderstood me, or maybe I didn’t express myself clearly enough, English is sometimes hard. I don’t completely master the nuances. I did not ask that about Tony. My question was more general,  _ did you pretend you loved a man or…?” _

The Australian froze and boiled up at the same time, sat on his van’s rooftop. He sweated heavily but felt shivers down his spine, his jaw clenching involuntarily.

“Oi! What d’you take me for!?” 

“Nothing but an honest man. I am starting to know you. You cannot lie, or very poorly.”

The Australian fell in silence. Had the world been spinning from West to East, he would have told the Frenchman. Back there, he had only put half a show… 

Lucien understood the silence. He looked at his friend and Mundy held his head low. Without adding a word, the Frenchman put his hand on his friend’s thigh. He felt Mundy tense but didn’t feel how hard his heart was pounding in his chest. The Australian screwed his eyes shut. He felt them grow hotter, the water rising up, his nose burning. At that point, he would have killed to be able to say what his heavy heart had born for months now, what the sight of his maskless friend in the white suit at the reception made him feel, what his hand on his thigh now made him feel. Mundy felt the knot tighten in his throat.

“Mundy? Tell me...”

Silence still.

The Frenchman frowned. He slid his hand in the dark until he found his friend’s and held it. Mundy bit his lip furiously. It was more and more difficult to hold anything back. Feeling that hand, ungloved, holding his and brushing the back of his hand. He didn’t want it to stop and yet he knew it would. It would of course stop, there simply was no other way! Mundy had to live with that, with his curse, with his secret. No one should know and no one could. If they did, he would be humiliated and mocked beyond belief. 

“Mundy, you can tell me.”

_ No I can’t! I tell you and then what? You bugger off and leave me there? Next day on the job we pretend nothing happened and carry on? You pretend that I’m normal and I pretend that I don’t-... _

“Please, Mundy, tell me.”

Lucien felt Mundy’s grip tighten on his hand. He was burning in his wish to tell the Frenchman, to spill everything he had always held back, like a dam breaking and washing away everything on its way. He so wished he could, but the price was dear, way too dear. He couldn’t risk it.

“You don't want to?”

Mundy was shouting in his head, yelling, screaming with all his might, like an animal in a cage, a prisoner behind invisible bars, the monster in the closet… He clung on to the touch of Lucien’s hand. That was more than what he ever hoped for, even though it was nothing compared to what he dreamt of at night. But that was what life gave him. Never the entire loaf of bread, only some crumbs, out of pity.

“Let me tell you, then, what I have been wanting to. But you need to look me in the eye, please.”

Mundy gulped down hard, the knot in his throat constricted him terribly still, his nose burned as if he had eaten too much mustard. But he gathered enough strength and faced Lucien’s eyes that he could barely see. There were two small shining spots, the reflection of the shy moonlight in the dark.

“When you did what you did today, I realised that I couldn’t care less about Mary or Tony or anyone else. I am a spy and as such, Mary had to be only a short passage in life, never a long stay. But I was looking at a man capable of the impossible for what…? For a friend? As a favour? And you made me think. I have thought on the way back here, I have thought in the shower, I have thought as I put on my pyjamas and talked to you. My brain rewinding on the events, on what you did, on what I saw you do and I understood.”

Lucien now saw his friend’s eyes glisten and as a cloud moved out of the moon’s way, he saw the tears.

“I understood that, were the roles reversed, the only reason why  _ I _ would do such a thing for you is if I…”

Lucien moved to sit in front of Mundy, facing him. 

“If I could ever manage to turn a blind eye to people’s opinions as violently as you did tonight, it would be for only one reason. And Mundy, I think that I realised that beyond the fact that I owe you, I  _ want to owe you.  _ Do you understand?”

The Australian’s breath had cut short long ago. He couldn’t say anything, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t process anything.

“Mundy, I fell in love with you tonight.”

The Australian smacked the hand that the Frenchman wasn’t holding in front of his mouth. Lucien took his friend’s hand in both of his and took it to his lips to leave a shy peck. It was too much for the Australian, who finally melted in tears, sobbing as silently as he could, entirely defeated, crushed by the weight of the words he had heard. He lowered his head and cried, again and again, losing all the waters of his body in the desperation, in the freedom, in the joy, in something he only dreamt of one day feeling. 

Lucien moved to sit next to him and held him in his arms, pulling his head under his chin. He repeated, whispering.

“Mundy, I fell in love with you tonight… I love you… I’m sorry I didn’t realise it earlier, I’m sorry I’ve made you wait so long… I love you, I love you…”


	17. Impromptu dance lesson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Sniper is tall af, and is selfconscious about it. When he had a growth spurt as a kid, he became very clumsy because of his long legs and kids made fun of him. That's why he never dances. He's never even tried to, scared that he'd made a fool of himself (again). Spy is elegant and everything he does, he does it perfectly. Even giving teaching lessons to his "friend". Their faces are very close, and Sniper is trying to focus on his legs to not fall, but Spy is so close, so beautiful... -🐑"

* * *

"Oh, Spook forgot his cigarette case…?"

Sniper was tidying up his campervan when he saw the thin metal box lying on the slim kitchen top. 

"Better go and give it back before he goes mad lookin' for his cigs." 

The Australian took it in his hand and headed for his  _ more-than-friend _ 's room. Spy and him had a… Well,  _ different _ relationship. Sniper didn't really know what it was and what to call it but it was indeed something new and unlike anything he had experienced before. 

The moments he shared with his French colleague he didn't have with anyone else. The summer nights on the van's rooftop, the winters in his smoking room in front of the fireplace… Not with Scout that he would get that; not that he wanted it either!

After passing the kitchen and living room, Sniper finally reached the door with the knife symbol at the end of the corridor. He raised his hand to knock when a noise made him stop. It came from inside the Frenchman's quarters. Sniper leaned in further against the door to hear better.

_ Is that… music?  _

He gave himself a few seconds to be sure but in spite of the fact that the door was muffling the sounds, Sniper could clearly recognise music. And that made him hesitate. Should he bother his friend…?

_ Knock, knock, knock… _

His knuckles had answered for him. 

"Come in!"

The Australian pushed the door just enough to peek his head in. He found that his friend had pushed the sofa, the armchairs and the coffee table aside. Spy was standing in the middle of it all, a hand flat on his stomach and the other suspended in the air at his shoulder's level.

"Sniper? What a surprise… Come in please."

"Oh, uh, sorry Spook, I just wanted to bring you this back, you forgot it in me van." 

Sniper extended his hand with the cigarette case in it. The Frenchman resumed a normal posture and went to open the door. He took the cigarette case from his friend's hand and smiled at him.

"Come in, please."

"A-aren't you in the middle of something?" 

Sniper shyly stepped in.

"It was just a warm up."

"Oh okay…" 

Spy shut the door after his friend and went to change the disc on the record player. A few seconds after, the music rose in the air. 

"Do you know the tango?" He asked. 

Sniper's eyebrows jumped. 

"Uh-what? No, nah, I mean it sounds nice."

"It does indeed." The Frenchman put a hand behind his back and the other on his stomach. He walked in rhythm, one step to the left, one to the right as he approached his friend. 

Sniper's eyes opened wider and wider. Spy was getting closer to him in a rhythmic zigzag, like a snake slithering left and right as it approaches a prey.

"Do you know how to dance it, Bushman?" 

"What? Me? Dancin'? No, no, no, no, Spook, look, I just came to give you yer cigs back-" The Australian raised his hands and blushed. 

Spy saw it and smirked. 

"You might have come for that, oui, but that is not the reason why  _ I  _ had you coming." 

"You what?" 

The Frenchman was right in front of his friend. He took Sniper's hand, put it on his shoulder and took the other one in his. 

"Now, I will lead and you follow, just listen to the music, you have a good ear.  _ Un, deux, trois et quatre…" _

_ [One, two, three and four…] _

"Wh-what?!"

The Frenchman started dancing, dragging the Aussie with him. 

"S-spook!" Sniper wanted to protest but Spy had him in his arms… He looked down at his feet to avoid treading on the Frenchman's. But his steps were more than clumsy and he felt bad for it. 

"Look up, you don't need to look at my feet to know where I am going."

"It's to not walk on them!"

"You won't, you just have to mirror my steps. Look. I take one step with my right foot towards you? You take one back with your left foot. See? It isn't so hard."

Sniper lowered his head.

"Spy, stop." 

The discomfort was audible in the Australian's voice so the Frenchman obliged. 

"What is the matter?" 

"I don't like dancin'. Never did. I just came back for your cigarette case, ok? Now let me go back to me van." 

Sniper turned on his heels but a hand held him back.

"Sniper?"

"Hm?" 

"You didn't come back for my cigarettes."

"Yeah I did."

"Non…"

The Australian looked at the Frenchman with questions in his eyes.

"I left my cigarettes purposefully in your van, on the kitchen top for you to find them and bring them to me whenever you wanted to."

"What?"

"I gave you an excuse to come and visit me, when you feel like you need one." 

Sniper looked confused so Spy explained. 

"When I go to see you in your van, I do it spontaneously, because the thought of you crosses my mind and I just want to see you. However, you always come for a reason."

The Australian had never realised it. 

"So I thought to myself that if I wanted to see you more often, I could help by  _ providing  _ reasons that would push you to come and visit me. The cigarette case is a good one."

"W-wait… Do you want to see me more often?" Sniper asked. 

"Didn't I leave my cigarette case, which you know I can't live without, in your van?" Spy answered with a smile.

"Why not just say it directly?" 

"And have you blush only once like you are now? Pff, non. I would rather see the pink in your cheeks everytime you come." 

The pink turned to red on the Australian's face. He put a hand on his brow and let it sink down. 

"Spook…" 

"If I am mistaken and you don't enjoy my company as much as I do yours, feel free to leave. In no way would I want to hold you back against your will."

Spy paused and Sniper diverted his gaze. 

"But if on the other hand you accept this dance with me, I would be delighted to teach you." 

The Frenchman held his hand out to his friend.

"Even if I wanted, I can't dance."

"Why?"

"I'm… I'm not made for it."

"Nonsense."

"Legs are too long, and I'm too clumsy with me feet. 's a bloody miracle I walk without trippin' on them all the time."

"Tsk… Sniper, look at me." 

The Australian didn't move. He held his head low, looking at his infinitely long legs. 

"Please…?" Spy insisted and heard his friend sigh before obliging. Sniper raised his head and his eyes met Spy's fair ones. "Your legs are not too long and you are not clumsy with your feet. This is all absurd. Non, you just have never danced before and no one taught you."

The Frenchman smiled. 

"But you are in luck, for I happen to be an excellent teacher, if I may say so myself." Spy smirked.

"Show off…" Sniper answered shaking his head.

"And a very patient one at that." 

"Spook…"

"So, if you are still here by now, I am assuming you accept my offer. Your hand in my mine, come on!" 

Sniper rolled his eyes and put his hand on Spy's.

"Not like that! I didn't not ask for you to slap my hand! Put it delicately on top, I am  _ inviting you _ , Bushman, to a session of  _ danse de couple." _

"Of what?" 

" _ Dance for the couples _ , or however you choose to translate that in kangaroo. Now, let me tell you about tango… Your hand on my shoulder, please. Voilà, that's good and the other in mine still…" 

Spy adjusted his friend's posture and the position of his limbs as he spoke. 

"Tango is a dance for two. There is one leader, always the male, and one follower, usually a female."

"So I'm a sheila now?" 

"Non, fret not. You still lack all the charms of a lady, Bushman…" Spy smirked. 

"Oi! I can be charmin'!" The Australian answered, his cheeks turning pink again. It wasn't everyday that things lead him to utter such a sentence…! But the Frenchman knew it and of course, he appreciated his friend's blush again. 

"Pray show me, then… But to come back on the point, non, the follower isn't always a lady. Actually the best ones were males."

"What?"

"Gentlemen would be taught the tango amongst themselves and would only approach a woman when they were confident about their skills. Nowhere was it normal to learn the tango directly with a girl." 

"Oh, I see." 

"Bien. The tango is also a dance of  _ proximity. _ " As he said so, Spy took a step forward and stuck his stomach against his friend. Sniper's breath cut sharp. He couldn't be closer to Spy, he could see himself in his eyes! 

"And as such, leader and follower will alway try to maintain as few points of contacts as possible but their limbs should be the closest possible too. That way, they have flexibility and freedom of movement  _ without _ breaking the proximity. Do you understand?"

Sniper nodded. 

"Now for the music. Its rhythm is very specific. The tempo is cleanly cut and marked. One should always pay attention to that, and the melodies often involve as few instruments as possible. Do you know why?" 

Sniper shook his head and Spy grinned. He loved having the Australian's attention all for himself…

"Because what is important in the tango, beyond the music and the dance…" Spy took a step forward and Sniper mirrored it back. The Frenchman was looking at the marksman as if he was now the hunter. "It is the  _ tension." _

They started moving. First it was just a step forward for a step back without moving away from their starting spot. 

"Listen to the rhythm, Sniper. Feel your heels hit the floor with the tempo… Oui, voilà…" 

Spy then took a step to his right, so for Sniper, it was the left. Right, middle, back, front, left, and again, right, middle, back, front, left…

"Very good, now, let us try and move, shall we?" 

The Frenchman didn't wait for an answer and started moving. Sniper started to understand. The point wasn't so much to  _ follow Spy _ per se, it was to let him take the lead and guide. The Australian looked down at Spy, who was about a foot shorter than him. The Frenchman seemed very comfortable, like a fish in water, he even loosened up enough to actually move his hips in rhythm. 

"Keep your head straight, good. Remember, it's all about  _ tension _ . The two dancers should be as close as possible while maintaining their distance."

Sniper gulped down hard and started sweating. The Frenchman was an inch or so away from his face and his eyes stared into his without parting. He didn't need to look where he was going, he didn't want to anyway because both felt it,  _ the tension. _

That fire burning against their chests, their hearts pounding into one another, breathing the same air tinted with the cologne that the other wore. Their eyes staring deep beyond the irises and diving behind the pupils, the windows to the soul and everything that both the shy Aussie and the secretive Frenchie hid. No, Sniper was impressed. It really felt like Spy was reading his most intimate thoughts and being the contradictory human being he was, instead of controlling his thoughts and holding them back, Sniper unleashed his mind and let it roam free. His brain flashed wild images before his eyes, images he had always pushed against seeing, forbidden pictures, surreal ones, ones that would never happen but in his dreams if he was lucky and brave enough.

"Spy, stop."

Sniper suddenly parted away from his partner.

"What is it?" Spy gently asked.

"I don't know. I… I don't like it." Sniper lowered his head. "And I'm bad at it too."

"You are one very poor liar." Spy said with a smug grin. "I know why you don't like it. And the reason that you feel that way is completely normal when dancing in such closeness." 

"No, it's not just when we dance, it's-"

"Is it?" Spy asked, interested. "Then I understand even more." 

He closed the space between him and his friend, and looked up at him. 

"Sniper?"

"Hm…" The tall man grumbled. 

"Sniper, please. Look at me."

With a sigh, the Australian obliged and his eyes met with the very fair blue ones of the man who was now brushing his hands up his chest. 

"S-spy, what do you want?" 

"You to relax. You have nothing to fear."

"No."

"Oui. I am not the enemy. In fact, I would appreciate it if you considered me as differently as you can from one."

Spy's hands were laid right and left from Sniper's neck. 

"Y-you're a friend. It's a lot already."

"Maybe." The Frenchman answered. "But may I be more?" 

Sniper raised his eyes to Spy, astounded.

"Like what? What d'you mean?" 

"Like this…" Spy cupped his friend's face and pulled him down as he pushed himself on the tip on his toes. Sniper's eyes snapped wide when the Frenchman's shut as he closed the gap between their faces.

Spy had Sniper's forehead against his and opened his eyes. 

"I saw it in your eyes when we were dancing. I saw the same thing that I have always hidden from you, Sniper."

"Hide what?"

Spy smiled. 

"A picture, a scene, a moment in time."

The Australian raised an eyebrow, his face still between the soft, gloved hands of Spy. Surely the Frenchman didn't mean…?

"W-what?" 

With a smile, the Frenchman answered. 

"The reason why your hands are now where they are, Sniper."

It took him a split second to realise. It wasn't something he had done consciously, he never thought he could do it, it was too  _ brutal…! _ And yet Sniper's hands were now on Spy's sides, against his shirt. His jaw dropped and he removed his hands. 

"Ho my God… S-sorry, I didn't mean to, I swear, I'm sorry…!"

"Why apologise? Who complained?" Spy asked. 

"Oh…" Sniper's throat was too tight now and he felt it as he gulped down his embarrassment. But it's true. Had Spy not wanted it, he surely would have pushed him back and he wouldn't be stroking Sniper's face with his thumbs, would he?

"Can I…? Can I put my hands back…?" 

The Frenchman chuckled. 

"I would appreciate it greatly. But there is also something else I would like, if I am being honest."

"Huh?" Sniper's heart was beating so hard, it might as well have burst out of his chest. His eyes darted left and right from Spy's eyes to his nose and further down, to his lips pursed in a sweet smile.

" _ Embrasse-moi." _

_ [Kiss me.] _

Sniper did not understand the French but got the kiss.


	18. Double-crossed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Yo what are those things called where you set up a bunch of riddles and notes with clues and puzzles and whatnot for another person to follow?? 
> 
> Cause I'm thinkin an elaborate setup made by spy... Sniper gets to the end which is where Spy proposes to him. Sniper nearly breaks down as he reaches into the pocket of his vest to reveal that he was also planning to propose. So they are kneelibg in front of each other with a ring. Such a beautiful moment"

* * *

_"Bonjour, mon amour…"_

_[Good morning my love…]_

"Mmh…" The tall man grumbled, half asleep. 

"Wake up…" The Frenchman let his finger stroke his lover’s cheek, like a gentle tickle.

"Five more minutes, please." 

"Mundy, I am not your mother." Lucien answered sarcastically. 

"I know, you grumpy old man, c'mere.."

Mundy wrapped all his limbs around his lover under the duvet and pulled him close. 

"Oof-! Someone is clingy this morning…" 

"I just think you're a bloody good teddy bear."

"Great, I went from being your mother to a teddy bear, I can't wait to see what's next…"

"Stop moanin', you like cuddles!"

"Well, that went round, last night it was _'I love it when you moan'_ and now it's _'stop moaning'_. Make up your mind!"

"Oi! I didn't mean it that way! Also, you don't need to bring it up…!"

Lucien was lying on top of his lover. He raised his head. 

"Or what?" 

"Or… I don't know… But whatever I'll do, I'll do it." Mundy said.

"So threatening you are, mon amour, I am paralysed with fear…" Lucien replied sarcastically before dropping his lips on his lover for a quick peck. "I have a surprise for you today, Mundy." 

"Oh? Please tell me you won't cook."

"Hey! I am an excellent cook, might I remind you that I-?"

"Yeah, yeah, you worked as a chef undercover in the best restaurant of all Paris, yeah I know…" 

"Anyway, non, my surprise is not edible." 

"Not interested then." 

"Mundy!" 

The Australian giggled and pulled his lover to kiss him on his forehead. Their legs mingled under the duvet. 

"I'm jokin'. I just like teasin' ya. But yeah, tell me, what is it?"

"You need to get up and take a shower first. You can only appreciate my surprise if you are clean and well dressed." 

"Oh, roight, okay. What about _we_ take a shower together, hm?" 

Lucien raised an eyebrow. 

"Why the uncharacteristic initiative?" He asked. 

"Cause I got a surprise for you too, darlin'. And I wanna see you look yer best to receive it." 

"Well, that is quite easy in my case."

"Whot d'you mean?" 

Lucien smirked. 

"I always look my best. A man once said _'I don't know how you do it, I see you and I want you, you're just gorgeous.'"_

Mundy smiled. 

"That's one wise bloke!"

"Wise and _sexy._ Now, let us take our shower, shall we?"

"After you, luv'."

The two men got up and went to the bathroom. 

"And no business restyling my hair with the shampoo!" 

"Oh, c'mon, Lu'…?"

"Non!" 

After the shower, both ex-mercenaries were lazily having breakfast in the kitchen. The Frenchman was wearing a white shirt but hadn't buttoned it all the way up. He had rolled up his sleeves to right before his elbows. His skin had slightly tanned in this beginning of summer and one could start to see a tan line where his watch usually sat. It was no longer and invisibility watch. Non, it was only the watch that Mundy had offered him for their two-year anniversary.

The radio was playing in the background while Lucien and Mundy chatted away. 

"So, what's yer surprise for me?"

"Have a look in your pocket." 

Mundy frowned. Lucien smiled as he followed his lover's hand hovering over his beige t-shirt and reaching for his pocket. He took a note out.

"Oh, what's that?"

He unfolded it and read Lucien's cursive handwriting. 

_Where did we meet?_

"Well, Mann Co., what's that mean?" Mundy asked. 

"If you understand what I mean, you might get closer to my surprise." 

The Australian frowned. 

"Where did we meet…?" He repeated.

"I will give you a clue for this one. The answer is somewhere in this house."

"Roight… But Mann Co. isn't in the house." 

"Non, you are right. But _where we met_ is." 

"Oh, bloody hell… Let me think… Can I walk around the house? It might give me ideas."

"Oui, wander as much as you please. I will follow you."

The Australian kept the note in his hand and looked around him in the kitchen. 

"Nothing linked up to Mann Co. here…" 

He walked to the living room as Lucien watched him, his hands behind his back and a sly smirk on his lips. 

"Couch, armchair, table, chairs, television… Mate, there's nothing that belongs to Mann Co. here!"

"But that is not the question. What is the question, _mon chéri?" [my darling]_

"Where did we meet? That's the question. Wait. What if I had to take it literally? Like we met in Mann Co., roight? And where was Mann Co.? New Mexico. Lu', we're in bloody Paris, do you want us to go back there?!"

"Non!" Lucien laughed. "It is in this room, Mundy. Open your eyes, you will understand…"

The Australian scratched his head and looked around him, at the framed pictures and paintings that were on the walls, there was a world map too. The lovebirds wanted to see the world together and put a pin on each location they've been to… 

"Wait! The map!"

Lucien smiled as Mundy leapt at it.

"New Mexico, there! There's a small note pinned there! Hahaha!"

"Go on now, step two, Mundy!"

"Roight…" He unfolded the note. " _Under what were you when we shared our first kiss?_ What? _Under what?_ What's that s'pposed to mean?"

"I don't know, you do the thinking now, _allez!" [Come on!]_

"Roight, roight… Where did we first…? Well it was outside the base, so under the bloody sky?!" 

Lucien shook his head with a smile. 

"Non, try again, where were _you_ , under _what?"_

"Under the moon? It was the night." 

"Non, Mundy, as much as I would go to the moon and back for you, this is not the answer." 

"Under what, under what…?" The Australian repeated, his eyes darting from left to right. "Wait." He closed his eyes. "We were outside the base, you were in front of me. I wasn't under a balcony or a window, even a door… Bugger!"

Lucien chuckled. 

"I'll find it, just you wait!" 

The Frenchman rolled his eyes. 

"What was above me when I kissed you…?"

" _When you kissed me?_ Excuse me, if you remember correctly, _I_ was the one going for it!"

"Lu', not now, I'm tryin' to think!" 

"Still!" 

"What was above my bloody head…? My hat! I was wearin' my hat!" The Australian exclaimed and ran to the coat hanger, he looked in his hat and found a new note. He brandished it out it, as a magician would with a rabbit out of theirs.

"Ha! Found it!"

"What does it say?" 

"Roight, let me read… It says… _What smell did I bring to your life?_ Oh. Your perfume? Shall I go to the bathroom?"

"How would I hide a note in a bottle of perfume?" Lucien sarcastically answered. 

"Alroight, it's not that. What smell you brought to my life? Hm… I don't know, really… Your brand of detergent?"

Lucien rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"So much for romance, Mundy…" 

"Ok so it isn't that. _What smell… Smell, smell, smell-_ Oh! The cigarettes! I'm bloody stupid! Where's your cigarette case?!" 

"Where do I leave it before sleeping?"

"Night table!" 

Mundy ran to their bedroom and Lucien followed. He saw his lover throw himself at the metal case and open it. 

"Ha! Gotcha! This one says… _Tell me to go in the garden and put my right shoe on._ Whot? That's weird."

"Follow the note, Mundy." 

"Alroight then, uh, go in the garden and put yer right shoe on."

"Follow me." 

Both men went outside and Lucien grabbed his shoes on their way. They opened the French window to their small vegetal paradise. The green was flamboyant and the flowers blossoming gave the whole atmosphere an air of carnival, of celebration. 

"Now Mundy, if you excuse me, as the note mentions I need to put my right shoe on…"

The Australian raised an eyebrow. He watched as Lucien slid his foot in the shoe and knelt down to tie his laces. The Frenchman stared at his foot for a second. His hands had gone to the laces but did not touch them. He raised his head and straightened his back. 

"Mundy…" 

The tall man looked down at the Frenchman in the white shirt, the first few buttons of which were open. His ice blue eyes were riveted on his own, his hair was flowing gently under the breeze. Lucien put a hand in his pocket and retrieved a small blue velvet box. He raised it at his eye level. 

"Mon amour, this is why I had you do all this…" He gulped down hard, his voice cracking slightly. "Would you want to spend the rest of your days with me, please?" 

He opened the box and a golden ring stood inside, shining under the bright sun. Mundy's jaw dropped and trembled. He felt his eyes fill with tears instantly. 

"Lu'! Oh my-... Lu'! W-wait, before I answer, I-I… Oh my God…" 

Lucien raised an eyebrow. Couldn't Mundy wait?! Whatever he wanted to do, couldn't his business wait? Was a proposal _not important enough_ for him to take it _that lightly_?!

The Australian ran back inside and came back in a flash. 

"Lu', get up!"

"Wh-Mundy! I am being serious! I am proposing to you! And you don't at least have the decency to answer?!"

"Lu! Shut up and get up! Up!"

"Non!"

"Trust me! And if you really love me, stand up!" 

Lucien was fuming, but because he couldn't find it in his heart to refuse anything that those sweet lips said, he pushed himself up and stood. 

"Roight…" 

The Frenchman watched as his reason to live dropped to one knee and took a small red leather box out of his pocket in front of Lucien's dumbfounded face. His eyes couldn't be open wider even if he had wanted to. 

"M-my turn to ask… That was _my_ surprise for today but uhm… You got there before me, like always, you always think faster than I do but-but I wanna do it properly, okay…?"

Lucien covered his open mouth with both his hands. 

"Lu', Lucien I… I love you more than anyone and anything. I wanna be with you always, I wanna come back home everyday and see you waiting for me. I want to be at home in the evening alone, and when I hear you unlock the door, I want to feel my heart jump in my chest, I want to feel that every bloody day of my life, okay? I-I want to wake up with you in my arms and I want to sleep with you… P-Please Lu', promise me that you'll stay with me forever, please?"

Mundy opened the box to reveal a golden ring inside. The Frenchman's knees gave up and he landed on them, on the grass with a thud. 

"M-Mundy? But how…?" 

"Say yes now, please." 

Both were on their knees, tears in their eyes, breathing fast and short, their throats tight and their hearts pounding out of their chests.

"Oui, Mundy, oui! What do _you_ say?"

"Of course! Yes!" 

They wrapped their arms around each other, letting their red eyes wash their faces with their tears of joy, like the waters of a baptism at the beginning of a new life. 


	19. Angry kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request: Angry Sniper/Spy kiss ?

* * *

The battle had been long and tiring but thank God the Administrator announced the end of the day’s fight. In his nest, Sniper’s shoulders sank and he sighed as he heard the  _ melodious  _ voice resound loudly across the battlefield. He rolled his eyes and grumbled his exhaustion in a curse.

He was about to turn to head back to the base when he felt a hand on his shoulder. His first reflex was to spin around and swing his rifle as hard as he could.

“Non-argh!”

As he did so, the Australian hit his French teammate in the jaw and nose .

“Bushman!” Spy exclaimed, offended. He removed one glove and put a finger under his nose.

“I’m sorry but I told you already Spook, don’t come behind my back like that!”

“But the battle is over!” The Frenchman put a handkerchief to his nose to wipe the blood.

“Yeah, I know, but the other bastard’s been bothering me throughout the entire match, and I’ve told you countless times before, never  _ ever _ creep up on me like that!”

“The  _ other  _ bastard? Excuse me, am I a  _ bastard _ now?”

“Oh, please don’t start, you know what I mean…!” The Australian spat and walked past his colleague as he exited his nest and headed back to the base.

Spy raised his arms to the sky and dropped them down again.

“He might be bothering you  _ during  _ the battle but surely it can’t be him  _ after the end! _ Unless he visits you anyway and I am not in the know?!”    
  
“Oh Christ, Spy…” Sniper put a hand on his brow and let it sink on his face.

“What? Does he?! Really?”

Non, surely he didn’t mean… Non, please, non. They had walked all the way back to the door of the Australian's van. 

“What do you think?!” In his anger, Sniper just wanted to be left alone, take a shower and sleep that day away. He went in his van and slammed his door shut after him.

The Frenchman was left in the infinity of the orange desert, his nose bleeding, and his rage boiling. He might have made a mistake, yes, but Sniper wasn’t the one who had been burnt to a crisp repeatedly for hours on end. Non! And it seemed to Spy that he always tried to not let his work-related frustration invade their lives as a couple. 

Yes, a couple. They had been together for months now, as everybody knew on the base, maybe apart from Scout who always missed the obvious anyway…   
  
A couple, together because a shy bastard needed his secretly overly romantic half, because the handsome rogue had actually learnt to see through the yellow-tinted glasses and beyond them, he discovered a touch-starved soul as lonely and misunderstood as his own.

Spy stayed at the campervan’s door and stared at it, fuming. Sniper was on the other side, his hands on the slim kitchen top, his head hung low and his heart beat fast. He knew he had been mean, unnecessarily so, almost cruel with his lover. Spy didn’t deserve that. He surely meant well, he certainly wanted to just come to the arms of the only man he felt safe and loved by. And what did he get? A hit to the face which resulted in a nosebleed, and a fight.

Sniper raised his eyes and through the plastic, cheap blinds of his van, he could see the man in he suit was still standing there, his brow furrowed and his anger flashing on his fair eyes. The Australian lowered his head again. He had messed it all up. Even if Spy knew not to approach him that way, Sniper could have been less aggressive…   
  
The Frenchman wasn’t going to leave. Non! Yes, he should have announced himself more clearly when he joined his lover but that didn’t justify the amount of violence. Non! And what was that business with the enemy Spy…?

“Non.” He said and took the step that separated him from the van’s door. He flung it open, startling his lover with surprise and walked straight to the Australian. 

“Imbécile!” Spy took Sniper by the collar of his polo shirt and raised himself to the tip of his toes to match his height. “So the  _ other bastard _ comes to visit you?! Since WHEN?!”

“What?! No! What the hell are you talking about?!” Sniper answered. “He doesn’t, ya mongrel! Why would you think he does! He’s only interested in my back and the billion occasions he has to stab it!”

Their faces were only a few inches apart. Sniper saw his lover’s eyes shine fiercely and his pearly white teeth clenched hard as he spoke.

“I swear, Mundy, if I catch him getting near you, I will shred him to the point that no Medic or respawn will ever fix!”

As soon as he finished his sentence, the Frenchman felt the urge overwhelm him. He was holding the man that his mind, his thoughts and his very body had shivers from, the one man who knew what to do to him to make him vulnerable and melt. He was so close to him that he smelled the effort of a day’s work, the cheap coffee, his cologne, his scent. His knuckles were achingly close to his face, his rough skin, his sideburns, his hair.

The Australian felt it, the hesitation in his lover’s eyes. All it took had been a split second of time, a twitch of Spy’s eyebrow, and his insides flipped upside down, his mind sent on orbit. He saw those eyes, they were furious, but he could smell the menthol cigarette breath that lingered in the air, the atrociously expensive perfume coming from the body he had mapped out with all his senses before, in the secret of nights that his skin remembered suddenly in the goosebumps he felt.

It was absurd. At that moment, they were fighting, they  _ hated each other. _ Spy had made a mistake and Sniper had unleashed all his bitterness and frustration on him.

Oh but it didn’t matter because between the shivers the Frenchman felt and the goosebumps everywhere on the Australian’s body, there wasn’t much to go for the whole situation to flip.

_ “Damn you, Lucien…” _

Sniper wasn’t even sure if he said it out loud. His hands rushed to his lover’s sides and grasped them violently, digging his fingers deep in the shirt that he wished wasn’t standing there and he pushed Spy… He pushed him against the kitchen top and lifted him to sit there. The Frenchman’s back hit the van’s wall and the whole of it shook under the shock. Spy got taken aback, especially when he felt his feet part from the ground, but he wrapped his legs around Sniper’s waist and clung to him hard. 

The Australian crushed the Frenchman’s lips against the wall and Spy clenched his still gloved fingers on the collar he tugged on while his naked hand was in his lover’s hair, clenching almost painfully. They sucked the very breath out of each other’s lungs and Sniper pushed himself against his lover as much as Spy pulled him in with his legs and hands. 

They eventually broke the long kiss but kept their foreheads pressed against each other. One after the other, they pressed quick pecks on those sweet lips they couldn’t get enough of. They stuttered and babbled between two kisses, their eyes still closed.

_ “I’m sorry… ‘m sorry, luv’... Love you… more than anythin’...” _

_ “Non, c’est moi… Pardon… Mon amour… Je t’aime… Je t’aime comme un fou…” _

_ [No, it’s me… Sorry… My love… I love you… I love you like a madman…] _

They realised that, maybe for the first time, they didn’t want to walk away from their problems with their loved one. Non, they’d rather stay and mend their broken pieces back.

“There’s nothing with the enemy Spy, Lucien. I couldn’t hate him more.”

“Oui, I know, I just, I couldn’t bear the idea. I could see you and him in my head and… I thought I was losing you.”

“Hey?” The Australian cupped his lover’s face and looked through the blinds of the nearby window. No one. He put his fingers around the edge of the mask and pulled it up and away. The Frenchman’s salt and pepper hair flowed softly as Sniper slid his fingers along Spy’s cheeks and through his hair. “I love you, alroight? I love you and I want you even when you piss me off.”

Spy smiled.

“So do I. But please, I need a shower first.”

“Yeah, me too. Let’s go to yer room and we’ll shower together, I don’t want to let go of ya, no yet.”

“Neither do I, mon amour.”


	20. Hope the dog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Im a sucker for hurt/comfort what can i say. No one knows this, but Spy is completely terrified of dogs, something happened with one of then in his childhood and now, every time he gets close to one he almost has a panick attack. Sniper loves dogs, grew up with them, so one day, when a lost stray appears in the base, Snipes takes care of it. He helps Spy understand the animal and he ends up creating a bond with it. Snipes couldnt be prouder for Spy to overcome his terrible fear. -🐑💙"

* * *

Sniper had driven to the nearest payphone for his weekly call to his parents.

It seemed not much had changed back home. His parents were still busy with the farm, they had seen the usual faces at the market the previous day, and their business was going pretty well. 

“And how’s yer darlin’ _?”_ His mother asked.

Sniper pushed the hat deeper on his head and blushed as strongly as if he was physically standing in front of his parents.

“Uh, y-yeah, he’s uh, he’s alright. We’re alright.”

A stray dog came to him and the Australian smiled to him as a reflex. He continued the chat as the dog sat next to him, wagging his tail on the orange floor of the desert.

Soon the phone call ended in countless “byes” and “love ya”.

“Roight, back to the base.”

The Australian walked back to his campervan a few metres away and the dog followed him. 

“Mate, you look terrible… Let me see…”

The dog walked his head low, he looked famished but he managed to walk and wag his tails as best as he could.

“You don’t look too sick. Who the hell left such a good puppy out like that…? Come with me, I’ll try and see what I can do for ya. Can you jump in? Good boy-oh, girl, sorry I didn’t pay much attention.”

Sniper had let the dog sit on the passenger’s seat. He patted her head and started the van, heading back to the base and when he arrived, he parked near it.

"Roight, let's see what we can do for ya. First, a bit of food and water won't hurt. Follow me!"

The Australian went to his van's backdoor and opened it. He prepared a bowl of fresh water and opened a can of tuna in another one. He put it all on the floor and patted the dog’s head as she came closer. 

"There ya go. Don't have proper dog food but I guess in yer state, anythin' will do eh? Good girl, now I'll go and get Medic to check you up. I hope he isn't busy or anythin'. I'll be a minute."

Sniper shut the door after him and went to the base, straight to the German doctor's quarters. Meanwhile, a certain man in a suit had heard the van's engine stop from his suite and had deduced that his lover had come back from his phone call. 

Spy put his newspaper down and popped to the bathroom to check himself. Tie? Mask? Gloves? Oh, and teeth? Oui, everything was perfect, _as usual._ He nodded to his reflection in the mirror and exited his suite to meet with the man his mind had been busy with. 

Once he arrived in front on the van's backdoor, he gave a short knock and pricked his ears up. No answer. But he could hear noises coming from inside. He leaned in closer to the door and realised that it sounded like someone was there, rummaging through his lover's belongings. 

"Sniper?"

No answers. Non, something was wrong, definitely. The Frenchman flung the door open and jumped in as he flicked his blade open from his breast pocket. His eyes fell on the dog there and he dropped his blade instantly, cold sweat running down his spine. 

"Non… Non, non, non, non…!" 

His breath accelerated deliriously fast as he felt the fear paralyse him and take control of his limbs. He walked back as slowly as he could, his eyes open wide never leaving the dog’s. She was lying down, chewing on the Australian's slipper and wagging her tail happily. 

Spy bent his back down and raised his hands as if he was surrendering. His breath was so erratic that he could not articulate any words. He just slid his feet back very delicately, one after the other until his back hit the base's door. 

His wobbling knees could barely carry his weight and his eyes were full of tears that he held back, in fear that the dog would react and move closer to him. Spy put his hand on the handle and delicately opened it before slipping inside as fast as he could and locking the door. 

Feeling that he was relatively safe now, he put a hand on his chest to calm himself and gulped down his dry throat. As he did so, he realised he had left his blade on the van's floor and winced. Now it was lost. There was no way on Earth he could go back that close to the dog and retrieve it. Fuck the knife!

Spy ran to the living room and flung the door open. No Sniper. He rushed to the kitchen and crashed on its door. Heavy got startled and stopped chewing on his sandwich, his eyes snapping wide. Still no Sniper. 

As he ran through the corridor looking left and right, the Frenchman bumped onto someone. 

"Oh mon Dieu merci! C'est toi, mon amour?!" 

[Oh my God thanks! It's you my love?!]

He was grasping and clinging onto the Australian whose face turned bright red upon being called that way out of the intimacy of their room. 

"Whot-?"

Spy looked left and right and seeing that no one was around, he grabbed his lover's hand and shoved him in his room before locking the door.

"Spy, what's wrong? Oh?!"

The Frenchman hugged his lover and it was far from the tender usual gesture. No, he was holding him, clinging to his polo shirt as he would to dear life itself and burying his head in Sniper's chest. The Australian hugged him and frowned. 

"What is it with you? You act like you've seen a ghost or something." 

"Mundy… Mundy… Mundy…"

"Are you-? Oh my God, c'mere…" 

The Australian tightened the embrace around his lover's sides as he heard the Frenchman sniff repeatedly. He pulled him to the bedroom and shut the door, Spy clinging to him all along. 

Sniper lied on the bed and his lover laid on top of him.

"Luv', tell me what's wrong. Why're you cryin'? I've never seen you like that, you're scarin' me…"

"I… I wanted to see you…" 

"Yeah, what is it…?"

"I went to your van… Because I heard that you came back… oh mon Dieu, Mundy, I thought I was going to… Oh mon Dieu…"

[Oh my God]

"What is it?! Tell me and whatever it is, I'll deal with it myself, can't have you cryin' like that."

Spy's head was under his lover's chin. He spoke between two sniffs, his tears drenching his mask. 

"And I lost my knife… In your van… I can't fight it… I am… It terrifies me. I could hardly walk back here… Mundy please stay with me, I know it's not far, I can't fight it, it will kill me…"

"Lucien, my love, look up in my eyes now." 

The Australian cupped his lover's face and looked him straight in the eyes. The Frenchman's were red, swollen and soaked wet. 

"I'll get rid of yer mask, ok?"

"N-non, please, it will see me and it will kill me, please Mundy, please protect me…" 

And again, Spy lowered his head and buried it in his lover's chest, sobbing again.

_Please Mundy, please protect me._

That sentence hit the Australian like a punch in the throat. 

"Listen, it's just you and me, you locked your door. Do you want me to lock the bedroom's too?" 

Spy nodded, his head still against his lover's torso. 

"Alroight, move aside a bit."

"Non, I'll come with you. I can't let you go." The muffled, broken voice answered. 

"Roight, come with me then." 

They coordinated their movements and locked the bedroom door before coming back to sit down on the edge of the bed. 

"Now, take yer mask off." 

Spy raised his head and looked at the door.

"It's locked, we locked it together. You're safe, it's only me with you." 

The Frenchman nodded and removed his balaclava. 

"Good, now you have to tell me what's wrong, I can't protect you from something if I don't know what it is."

"I can't." 

Sniper raised an eyebrow. 

"You can. Look, I love you and I'm as intrigued as you're scared. Please tell me."

"Non."

"If you're _that paralysed_ then I guess it's bloody big! You said you lost yer knife, did you fight _it,_ whatever it is?"

Spy lowered his head and shook it. They were both sat on the edge of the bed and Sniper removed his lover's gloves and his own before taking Spy's fingers between his. 

"You didn't fight it but you lost your knife?" 

The Frenchman nodded as he took a handkerchief out to wipe his face. 

"What is it…? Please tell me luv'."

"I-I can't." 

"Why?" 

"Even you wouldn't understand."

"No, no I can. That's what _I love you_ means. It means I'll make the effort to get you. But you have to give me a chance. I'm sure I will."

"Non. No one ever understood. It's ridiculous. I can't tell you. Just trust me. I can't go outside now. It will…"

Mundy frowned as he saw his lover hide his face in his hand, his head hung low, his elbows on his thighs. 

"Lucien... I… I won't make fun of you. Y-you're the bravest man I know. You're not scared of… of lovin' a bloke, one like _me._ You're everything and-and I would never ever make fun of you, whatever it is." 

Lucien didn't flinch. Mundy wrapped an arm around him and pulled him to lean against him, which the Frenchman promptly did.

"Lu', please… Please my love, my darlin'..." Spy screwed his eyes shut and frowned hard. It was very unlike Mundy to use so many sweet words. But that only meant that he himself must be looking devastated. The Frenchman felt ashamed.

"I can't bear to see ya like that. Tell me at least a clue. You said it's in my van, but you've been there before, countless times. What's changed?" 

"Something has. You didn't have it before. I don't even know if you _own_ it per se. I heard noises, like someone rummaging through your things and given that you didn't answer when I called, I opened the door anyway and… That's when I saw it, murderous dark eyes, drool dripping on the floor, it… It looked at me and-"

Mundy's eyes snapped wide. 

_The bloody dog!_

"Why are you so scared of her?" 

"Her?" 

"Yeah. It's a she and she's still a baby."

"Non, non, Mundy, it's a monster, it's-I've seen what it's capable of. Monstrosity and mistake of nature, it kills you in the most painful ways. Even I with my career and the atrocities I've seen during the war, I have never seen such cruelty."

Mundy realised that his lover's hands were shaking.

"C'mere…"

He pulled him closer. 

"On my lap, c'mon."

"Mundy-"

"No."

The Australian lifted his lover and put him on his lap before hugging him dearly. 

"Tell me now." Mundy said.

"I've told you already." 

"No, tell me what happened for you to think that."

"Non."

"Look at me."

The Frenchman didn't flinch.

"Lucien." Mundy squeezed him tighter. "Please let me protect you." 

"And I want you to. If this thing comes near me, I'm afraid you won't see much of me." 

"Look, I don't wanna piss you off or anythin' but… I found her near the payphone. She was starvin' and she followed me to the van. She didn't seem sick or anythin' so I asked her to come along and she accepted."

"Mundy, you need to drive it away and get rid of it. If I could, I would do it myself but…"

"Tell me what happened." 

Lucien sighed and hugged his lover, putting his head on Mundy's chest under his chin. 

"I was an infant. I had a friend at school. We use to walk to and from home together, he was a neighbour. One day, a stray dog was there. Being the children that we were, we thought that we could approach it and pet it." 

The Frenchman's silence fell like an axe sliced a log. 

"What happened then?"

"My friend… He… The dog attacked him. He didn't just bite him… It was… I can't even describe it. The violence of it made me vomit and not sleep for days."

Mundy's eyes snapped wide. 

"And the kid?" 

"May peace be upon his soul."

"Oh…" 

"It was barbaric, absolutely horrendous. And I was a child. I only understood what I had seen later. I've never stopped wondering…"

"About what?" 

"How did they manage to bury him in that state?"

Mundy's eyes might have popped out of his head. He was now imagining the worst. 

"How… How old were you, luv'?"

"About seven or eight years old." 

"Crikey…" 

Silence fell. 

"And since then, you can't approach dogs?" 

"Worse than that. I have panic attacks, I sometimes throw up or faint at the sight of one. They call it a phobia, or a trauma."

"Lu', I swear not all dogs are like that."

"Oui, maybe, but I won't risk it and I don't want you to risk it either."

"But Lu-"

"Non!" The Frenchman raised his index finger in a threatening way. "Mundy if you get near that animal, I… I might lose you." 

The Australian saw his lover's lip tremble. 

"Lu', I drove her here and I fed her. Nothing happened to me, she actually likes me, keeps on waggin' her tail."

"Until she rips your face off your head! Non, Mundy, please, don't get near her." 

"Lu', I grew up with dogs, we have three back home. They're very loyal and lovin' companions. You happened to be unlucky enough to meet the one dog that was actually mad but most of them are lovely." 

"Mundy, I don't want to risk losing you, or seeing you… like that boy…" 

"You won't, I promise. I'm not a young boy, I'm armed and I'm at least five times her size. I have nothing to fear. I've killed beasts much larger than me by the past. No, luv', now look at me."

"What?" 

Mundy loved seeing those very light blue eyes on him and without the mask, they shone more sweetly, more humanly. 

"You'll give me your hand and I'll show you that I am safe with her."

"Mundy, please…" 

"No, look, listen, here's what we're gonna do. You stay in the base and watch me through a window."

"What if she does something to you?"

"I'll ask Pyro to stand there with his flamethrower and grill it if it doesn't behave if you want." 

"Fine, alright." 

"Do you agree?" Mundy asked. 

"Check that Pyro has enough ammunition." 

Mundy smiled. 

"I will, don't worry. Now, let's go." 

A few moments later, the Frenchman had put a new mask on and was standing behind the kitchen's window. Pyro was outside with Sniper. The tall man opened the van's door wide, crouched down and called the dog. She excitedly trotted at the Australian and he patted her head. 

Spy was stuck at the window, his hands wrapped around himself and his jaw clenched hard. Mundy raised his head to him and smiled when he realised how tense his lover was. His head turned to Pyro and the fire expert put his flamethrower down. Lucien was about to shout when he saw that Pyro picked the young dog in his arms. Sniper went back inside the base and locked the door. 

He joined his lover in the kitchen. 

"Look at me, I'm still alive, eh." 

"Thank God you are." 

The Frenchman leant forward and his head landed on his lover's chest. Mundy wrapped his arms around him.

"I came back fer you. And here, that's yer knife."

"Merci." 

"Look at Pyro." 

The Frenchman turned his head and looked through the window. 

"See, she isn't doing anything to him." 

"She is sniffing him repeatedly though. Will she devour him? Does she have to do that?" 

Mundy smiled and gently rocked his lover left and right. 

"Nah, it's to get to know him. Everyone has a combination of smells that defines them. That's how she identifies and remembers people. Think of it like names. We humans put names on people, she puts smells." 

"Oh, I see… And, may I ask, I saw her licking your fingers. I was scared for you, mon amour." 

"Don't be, all dogs do that. They'll smell a bit of food or sometimes it's just a bit of sweat on yer hands and that's salty usually, so they'll lick it off."

"Ugh, she disgusts me." 

Mundy chuckled. 

"Who doesn't…? Even I did at the beginning." 

Lucien smiled, his cheek against his lover's polo shirt. He could hear his heartbeat.

" _Touché."_

"Lu'?"

"Oui?"

"Do you want to go and touch her?" 

"Non, please… I'm, this is too much already." 

"Fine. I'll find a leash or a rope or something to tie her so that she stays put."

"And be careful when you feed her, please." 

Lucien brushed his hand on his lover's chest. The Australian looked down at him and softened. 

"Of course, don't worry… I think I'll call her Hope."

"Hope?" Lucien repeated. "Why?" 

"Because… I don't know, it's a good name. I hope she'll get in shape again and that one day you'll be able to see her like I do."

The door swung open and broke their moment.

"Hey guys? Oh… Fancypants?! With Snipes?!"

Mundy turned red as a brick and tensed. Scout had erupted in the room as delicately as he ever was, and saw the Frenchman in his lover's arms.

"Scout, if you don't proceed out of this room in the next half of a second, I will personally make sure that your family name stops with you." 

"But-?!" 

The Frenchman only had to raise an eyebrow and the young man spun on his heels. 

"Jeez! Now I owe Engie twenty bucks!"

Mundy and Lucien looked at each other.

"Bugger…"

"Well, so much for discretion." Lucien added. 

"I-I'm sorry." 

"Not your fault. And I've had enough of hiding. Let everyone know, I couldn't care less." Lucien raised his eyes to the reason he felt safe. "I… I love you." 

Mundy opened wide eyes. 

"It's the first time you tell me… _that_ , in English." 

"So that I'm sure you understand and never forget, now give me your lips, I need them to remember too…" 

Lucien pushed himself to the tip of his toes and pulled Mundy's neck down. Their lips met with a smile. 

"See, I told ya Hard-Hat!" 

Neither Sniper nor Spy broke the kiss. Instead, they just gave the young man a self-explanatory middle finger each…


	21. In the forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hi!❤️. Spy is a romantic. He always makes nice things for Sniper, and the dates he plans are amazing. Sniper wants to be romantic too, so, this time, he wants to surprise Spy with his own planned date. He'll take him camping and they'll watch the starry together. Convincing Spy to go camping was a little hard, but totally worth it, Spy completely loved that date. "

* * *

“Non, Sniper, I cannot accept.”

“How can you not like it if you’ve never tried it?”

Spy got up from the shade of the van and walked further away, his _more-than-friend_ on his heels.

“Let us be serious, Sniper. Do you see me in the middle of a forest with squeaky plastic green boots?”

The Australian sighed and let his shoulders sink. He put a hand on Spy’s back who had just lit a cigarette.

“Spook, please… You always take me to wonderful places I’ve never been before, luxurious hotels and restaurants, and there was the tailor too, that fancy hairdresser… I want to try and open yer horizons too. I-I’m sorry I’m not a fancy city man like you but-but I’m sure I can make it worth your time.”

Sniper saw the cloud of smoke float in the air like the steam of an old train. Thoughts were racing in Spy’s head.

“Please, Spy. It’s not all about dirt and wilderness. There are beautiful things outside of a city’s walls.”

The Frenchman turned to face the reason his heart was beating for and Sniper put his gloved hand on his cheek.

“Like you, right now, you’re in the middle of the desert and uh… Y-you… You’re just beautiful.” 

Spy raised his eyes to Sniper. His lagoon blue eyes shone so gently that he didn’t find it in his cold stone heart to refuse.

“Fine.”

“Really?”

“Oui. Let us go camping tomorrow.”

“Thank you so much!” The Australian squeezed the slim Frenchman between his arms.

“S-Sniper!”

“Ah, yeah, sorry, the suit, alroight, I’m sorry.” Sniper took a step back and wrapped his arms around his own self, lowering his head. He knew the Frenchman didn’t like anyone to touch his absurdly expensive attire.

“Sniper, look at me.”

The Australian shyly raised his eyes.

“I don’t like when _other people_ touch my suit…” Spy added a smug smile, for good measure.

They had spent the night in Sniper’s campervan and when the sun rose up, the Frenchman found himself entangled in his lover’s limbs. His first reflex was to free himself certainly out of professional habit but then he realised that he liked that embrace more than he could admit. The warmth of his lover, the comfort of his soft body, the touch of his rough skin against Spy’s…

“Mornin’, Spook…”

“Oh, you woke up?”

“Felt you movin’ on me.”

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to disturb your sleep. You may go back to your dreams if you will.” Spy took Sniper’s hand in his and kissed his knuckles. He couldn’t see it but the Australian’s eyes snapped wide under the gentle touch.

“Not a chance. I’m likin’ this way too much…” The embrace tightened.

“So, when are we going to the jungle, Tarzan?” 

“Oi, I’m no Tarzan and I’m takin’ you to a forest, not a jungle.”

“I don’t see the shadow of a difference.”

“Between me and Tarzan or between a jungle and the forest?”

“ _Oui.”_

“You’re a bloody mystery and a half.”

“It is indeed my job title.”

About an hour later, the van was crossing the empty golden, flat desert, on the thin strip of grey asphalt.

“Are we there yet?”

“Spook, not yet.”

A few seconds passed and the van's engine was roaring.

“And now, Bushman, are we there yet?”

“Do you see anythin’ that looks like a bloody forest?”

“Non, I can only see the dull, boring orange desert.”

“Well then that means we’re not there yet, roight?”

“How long is this journey, Bushman? Are we going to make it before you get baby kangaroos?”

“Oi! A bit of patience, Spook!”

The Frenchman sighed and let his head fall back on the headrest.

“Also, I can’t get babies on my own, this isn’t how it works.”

“Is this an invitation?” Spy smirked.

“Shut up!” Sniper nudged him with his elbow.

The journey took an extra hour before they could see the end of the orange and the beginning of the green. The Australian lifted his foot off the gas pedal and eventually parked somewhere that the Frenchman would describe as _“the middle of nowhere”._

“Roight, this is it.”

“Ah, oui, merci Sniper, for this delightful ride to the middle of nowhere, forest edition.”

“Oh get out and cheer up, I’ll show you some nice stuff!” Sniper answered and cut the engine off.

“After you, Mister guide…”

They got off the van. 

“Uhm, I am not really dressed for this, Sniper.”

“Come ‘round. I can lend you some clothes.”

“Non merci.”

[No thanks.]

“You’d rather walk around in yer suit and nice shoes, then?”

“I did not say that.”

“Then c’mere.”

They walked to the van’s back and Sniper jumped in. He rummaged through his belongings and found an old flannel shirt and a pair of jeans as well as some white trainers.

“Here, wear this.”

“I do hope that you are kidding me, _mon beau.”_

_[my handsome one]_

“Nah, I’m not. It should be yer size more or less and it’s fine to get them a bit dirty, although you’ll see that we’re not gonna go through any survival things. This is just to show you that you can find as many beautiful things in nature as you can in a city.”

The Frenchman winced.

“Alroight, I can uh… I mean if it helps, I can… Ahem…” Sniper put a hand on the nape of his neck. 

Spy jumped in the van and got close to his lover. 

“Tell me, what is it?”

Sniper glanced over his lover’s shoulder and seeing the door shut, he lowered his head and whispered.

“I… I can remove yer suit for you and dress you up… I-if that helps I mean…”

“Oh I don’t know if that would help.” Spy smirked and put his index finger under Sniper’s chin to push it up until their eyes met. “On one hand, if you do remove my clothes, I might get carried away. Should you proceed anyway, I would find it most enjoyable.”

“Is that a yes then?”

“Oui.”

“Alroight…”

A few minutes later, both men were out in the green. Spy kept his gloves and balaclava on. He took his lover’s hand in his.

“Show me then, please.”

“Alroight, see those trees here, well, you gotta understand somethin’ about the way they work…”

It wasn’t a visit, it was a trek, an excursion, a hike across the green. The Australian unveiled the secrets of the forest, the local wildlife as well as the typical flora around this parts.

“Oh and what is it about the mosquitoes! it’s getting worse!”

“Ah that must mean one thing, Spook, we’re getting closer to some water. Oh, look here, on the ground.”

“What are those fluffy, uhm, _mille-pattes?”_

“Mill-what?”

“What do you call those insects with a lot of legs?”

“Ah, caterpillars. These are called caterpillars.”

“Why are they so fluffy? Can we touch them?”

Spy got his finger closer to them.

“No, no, don’t! They’ll sting you!”

The Australian took his lover’s hand away.

“And why do they walk in a line like this? They look like they’re queueing for something…”

“Haha, my poor city man, they’re blind, that’s why they follow the only one that has any idea where it’s going!”

“Oh… I see…”

“What do you think about’em?”

“They look actually quite pretty. And very organised.”

“Glad to hear you say it, they’re amazin’ these creatures, see? Blind but they know what they’re doing! Let’s continue.”

“Fine, I’ll follow you.”

The guided tour lasted the entire day and to Spy, it seemed that he had received an entire encyclopaedia of information about the place. Everything had been accounting for, every straw of grass included. The sun was now gently setting in the distance.

“Hungry, luv’?”

The Frenchman raised an eyebrow.

“Did you just call me…?”

“Oh, uhm, sorry, that came out like that, I didn’t think about it, uh…”

“Don’t apologise, now I am _quite_ hungry indeed…”

Spy winked at his lover and Sniper’s cheeks turned red instantly.

“R-roight, uhm, I-I’ll get the fire goin’ uh…”

“Sniper?”

“Yeah?”

“Let me light the fire, please.”

Sniper’s eyebrows jumped.

“You know how to do it?”

“May I try?”

“Alroight, go ahead. I’ll get to the van and arrange some stuff meanwhile.”

A few minutes later, the Australian exited his van again.

“Crikey, you did it! You lit a fire!”

Sniper jumped out of his van and leapt at his lover.

“ _Mon amour_ , non-oof!”

[My love]

The momentum of the Australian’s jump made them both tumble and fall on the grass. The Frenchman rolled his eyes.

“Oh now even my balaclava will be dirty…!”

“Yeah, but it’s protecting yer hair! Why are you always seeing the glass always half-empty?”

Spy smiled.

“I guess you are right.”

“Also, did you just call me-?”

“My love, oui, I did.”

“I… I love you.”

Sniper wrapped his arms around his lover and buried his head in his chest as he laid on top of him on the earthy ground of the forest.

“Sniper, y-you are crushing me…”

“Don’t care, I just love you.”

They enjoyed their sausages and marshmallows, sat on a tree log, Spy leaning his head on his lover’s shoulder. The sun had now fully set and the sole source of light on which they could rely was the dancing flames of the campfire that the Frenchman had made. 

“It’s cold now, mon amour.”

“It is. Climb up the van’s roof, I’ll be a minute.”

“The _roof?”_

“Yeah.”

“But it’s cold!”

“Trust me, Spook, please.”

“Fine. I have been so far so why not go all the way?"

A few minutes later, both men were on the van’s rooftop. Sniper had put the flames out and only the smoke floated in the air, evaporating through the darkness of the night. 

“Here, a duvet, we’ll be a bit warmer.”

The Australian sat next to his lover and threw the cover on their shoulders. Spy snuggled up against his taller man.

“Now look up, luv’. See those stars in the sky?”

“I see them in your eyes.”

Sniper looked down and saw the Frenchman’s eyes riveted on his, his wide black pupils reflecting the moonlight. 

“Oh, uh, they must look tiny on my eyes, uh, y-you better look at the sky to see them better, I think.”

“You are adorable.” Spy took Sniper’s arm in his and looked up. 

“See those stars shaped like a saucepan?”

“Oui.”

“That’s the Great Bear.”

“It doesn’t look like one, does it?” Spy tilted his head left and right, trying to see where on Earth anyone could see a bear up there.

“Nah, it’s true… And that one there, the upside down saucepan, that’s the Small Bear.”

“It doesn’t make any sense, Bushman. Who are these people who decided on that, their vision is terrible! Have they ever seen a bear in real life?!”

“Oi, don’t blame me, I have nothing to do with that, luv’! I’m just explaining it to ya.”

“I know, but still. They should have called it the saucepan and the upside down saucepan.”

“I agree with ya. Now there’s that one there, that’s the Dragon.”

“And unsurprisingly, it does not look like one.”

“Oh cause maybe you have seen a dragon in real life?”

“And what if I did.”

“Oh, shut up and c’mere…!”

They snuggled up closer to each other under their white fluffy blanket and the dark one God had laid above their heads.

“So what about today? Did you like it?”

“Oui, I think I did. You know a lot of things about this… _Nature business…_ ”

“Well, yeah, I’ve lived most of my adult life outside and in me van, so I guess it makes sense.”

“I find this interesting.”

“Is that a way to say that you would like a second trip some time?”

“Maybe, Bushman. It all depends on one thing, you see.”

“Oh, what’s that?”

“The way that you decide to spend this night with me.”

“Well, we’ve got the cover here and no one around for miles…”

The gaze they exchanged in the night sealed their decision and as the day had started with their limbs entangled, it ended the same way. 

  
  



	22. After battle snuggles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "If you are doing requests, Maybe after battle snuggles?"

"Gosh that was a long day…"

"Hoo-hoo!" 

"Sorry Hootsy, yeah, I'll give ya food. Oh Christ, you need water too, don't you?" 

The Australian had come out of the shower and was now in his van with his feathery companion, Sir Hoots-a-lot, his pet owl. 

"There you go mate, and sorry I forgot about it this morning. I was in a bit of a rush…" 

The bird was fully focused on his meal such that his master felt that he could relax. But a knock on the door of his modest dwelling interrupted his plan. 

"Who's that?" 

"Who do you think?" 

Sniper's lips pursed up in a smile before he could control it and he opened the door. 

"May I? I can come back later if the time is ill-chosen."

"No, no, come in." 

The man in the suit stepped in. 

"I heard you talk to someone so I was unsure of your availability."

"I was just chattin' with Hootsy. Besides, that didn't prevent you from knockin', eh?" 

"Indeed it did not stop me." 

Both were standing up and watching the owl. 

"So, why did you come? Need somethin'?" 

"Oui." 

"What is it?" 

"Your company." 

Sniper blushed.

"It is quite late in the night and I saw you during dinner, Bushman. You ate like two or maybe three…!"

"Yeah, the enemy Spy gave me a rough time today. Found myself running and watchin' out for my back more than usual. Made me hungry… and tired actually."

"Shall we lay down maybe?" The Frenchman suggested. 

"What? Here? In me van?"

"Oui." 

"I thought you hated it."

"And I do. I just can bear the idea of you being tired even less. We can go to my room if you want, but if you don't want to move, here is perfect."

The Australian pondered for a second. Was it a trick from his friend in the mask?

"Uhm… Uh… Y-you sure?" 

"Oui. I am being straight with you,  _ or as straight as I can be." _ Spy chuckled at his own play on words. 

"Roight, let's stay here then, if that's ok with you." 

"But of course, you lead the way." 

Sniper removed his shoes and climbed up his bed. Spy imitated him and removed his jacket before joining him. They laid in bed, each on their sides, looking at the other in the eyes. There was a ceiling window above their heads through which they could only see the dark sky, scintillating with a million stars.

"Spy?" 

"Hm?"

"Thanks."

"What for?" 

"Spendin' yer time with me. Y'know, you come to my van and you're uh… You're just bein' nice. It's a good thing, I like it." 

"You almost sound surprised." 

"A bit yeah, maybe." 

"But Sniper, I thought my intentions were clear with you, non?" 

"Well… You're a bloke who likes mysteries and you can understand stuff that people barely say so I guess for you, yeah, everythin' couldn't be clearer. But me? I'm simple, see? I uh… You need to tell me things directly. Besides, you're the spy here so nobody knows when you're really tellin' the truth or when you're playin' around."

The Frenchman grinned in a comforting way.

"My reputation blurs your vision. Things are much easier than that. I  _ play around  _ as you say, only when necessary. In my private life, I have gone through enough to know that honesty is key. So I will be honest with you, Sniper." 

His hand hovered to the Australian's cheek and when it touched it, Sniper realised that his friend had got rid of his gloves. He was touching his cheek with his bare hand…! 

"I love you, simple as that. I merely have feelings for you that make me long for you. You are on my mind, constantly, and I wouldn't have it any other way." 

Spy's thumb brushed the marksman's rough skin on the cheek up until his sideburn. 

"I think very few people see through the yellow-tinted glasses that you like so much to wear. Shame for them, luck for me, for I have learnt to know the man behind them and I am not ashamed to say that I like him more than perhaps I should."

Sniper's jaw had dropped and he lowered his eyes to hide his blush that the Frenchman couldn't see anyway because of the dark. But Spy felt it of course. 

"Come here,  _ mon amour."  _

_ [My love.] _

Spy pulled Sniper closer until the Australian's head was laying on his chest. He was using Spy's chest as a pillow and hearing the Frenchman call him  _ 'mon amour' _ made him feel a million shivers on his skin and inside. 

"I think not a lot of people see the sensitive man that you hide. But I can." 

"Like you." 

Spy's eyebrows jumped and in his surprise, silence fell. Sniper raised his head and looked up at him. 

"Look, you're the most romantic bloke I've ever met. You have no shame of showin' that you have feelings, you're not afraid to say that you… I mean…"

"That I love you?"

"Y-yeah."

"You may say it too, if that is indeed what you feel." Spy brushed his lover's back with one hand while the other slid through his hair, on the back of his head. "I don't understand why we, as men, should hide our feelings. Doesn't it make us less human? Non, I say we should be more honest about it all." 

"You're roight…" Sniper had closed his eyes. The gentle head massage from Spy was working wonders. The man knew exactly how to knead his scalp, where to run through his hair, in which direction. It was fantastically enjoyable. 

"I love you too, I think." 

"You think? Are you unsure?" 

"S-sorry, I don't mean it in a bad way. I-I just know that I miss you when you're not with me and uh, well, I feel special when you are so close to me. I don't think I've felt that with anyone before. I mean I've felt things with sheilas, but it wasn't in my chest…" 

Spy smiled. 

"Then let me tell you that what you are feeling with me is romantic love and what you felt with them was only lust."

The Australian blushed out of shame and buried his head deeper in his lover's chest. He clung to his white shirt dearly. Spy felt Sniper's fingers claw in his sides.

"What is the matter?"

"Hmm-mhh-hm-mmh." The muffled voice answered. 

"Mon amour, I cannot understand, look up here." 

Sniper reluctantly did as he was told. 

"It's the first time I'm feeling this… At my age… Bloody shameful it is."

"Non. I see it as a miracle. God preserved you from all the harm that one can only feel if you share those tremors in the heart. Believe me, a heartbreak can sometimes take years to heal, long painful years before you meet with the sweetest Australian man there is." 

Sniper looked away. Spy knew how to make his cheeks warm and red. 

"Don't be ashamed."

"I'm not ashamed." Sniper slid his hands between the mattress and Spy's back. He laced his arms around him and squeezed him warmly. His head rose and fell under his lover's slow breath. The Frenchman continued to let his fingers lazily play with the Aussie's brown locks of hair. 

"What is it then?" 

"Bugger, I just… I love you, Spook, I really do." 

Both wore a peaceful smile under the stars shining through the ceiling window. The embrace they shared was soft and warm, much like the buzzing they felt in their hearts. 

  
  



	23. Spy's suit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Here we go, I think this is sensitive...spy doesn't want to touch his suit but honestly, he get trigger because of his dark past we all know spy is a good looking guy. Then sniper is always their for help in case spy was in danger"
> 
> The way I understood this is: Spy has some trauma with people touching his suit, he had bad memories of it. But thankfully, Sniper is here to help him overcome this!

* * *

"Good job today Spook!"

The battle had just ended.

"Well," The Frenchman crouched to use his enemy's tie to wipe his knife. "I believe I did what I had to quite beautifully indeed."

Sniper watched him do and rolled his eyes. The Frenchman had to be  _ that _ pedantic, didn't he? Despite giving his back to his tall friend, the Frenchman knew that his little taunt to the enemy had its effect on his colleague and he couldn't help but smirk. 

"And thanks for savin' me from that bastard's knife." Sniper added. 

"My pleasure." 

The Aussie bent down to put his hand on his friend's shoulder. 

"Roight, let's go back to the base, mate-whot?!" 

As soon as his fingers touched Spy's jacket, the Frenchman sprang to his feet, spun around, his feet sliding effortlessly on the orange, dusty ground of the desert and he put his blade under his teammate's throat. 

" _ Do not, under any circumstances, whatever you think you might be doing, touch my suit."  _

"Alroight… uh… Sorry, I-I'm sorry!" The Australian was petrified by both the way his colleague held him hostage and the sheer dread of what Spy was capable of doing. He had spoken slowly, his teeth gritted.

The Frenchman released him and without adding a word, he walked back to the base, leaving the Aussie there, as confused as a man could be. Sniper put a hand on his throat. 

_ Bugger, he would have slit my throat without a second thought… What the hell was that about…? Why?  _

He raised his head and followed Spy with his eyes as he caught his breath.

_ Roight, better go back too. _

The sun had now gone and Sniper was in his van. He finished his sandwich and played with the toothpick that was holding the olive on top of it. His eyes crossed to look at it better. It reminded him of Spy's blade and the incident that had happened earlier. 

The sun had set and the van was dark. Sniper didn't mind it. On the contrary, it helped him gather his thoughts. He closed his eyes and rewinded the movie of the events, trying to understand what he did to startle his colleague that much and make him react in such a brutal way.

No, there was absolutely nothing he had done wrong. And it was the end of the battle too so it couldn't be that Spy thought  _ he  _ was the enemy spy in disguise… He had just killed him anyway! Nothing made sense and Sniper opened his eyes again in the dark blue of the night. 

The only light source was the ones coming from the base and a nearby lamp post in the street, the only one for miles around. 

_ Bugger… _

Sniper put the toothpick between his teeth and chewed on it while his thoughts raced. 

They were good friends, bloody hell! Spy and Sniper were good friends! What could drive the Frenchman to do what he did…? What on Earth prompted that reaction after the days they had spent together, sometimes in Spy's smoking room, sometimes in the van, on their way to town. Sniper had offered to drive his teammate there because he needed to buy some things while the Aussie himself needed some supplies of his own. 

No, after all that and even after what had happened a few days before, the way Spy looked at him… 

Sniper remembered it. They were sharing a cigarette and a drink in the Frenchman's room. Well,  _ sharing  _ wouldn't be correct as one was having a beer while the overly sophisticated other was sipping  _ aristocratically _ on his wine. 

Truth be told, Sniper found the Frenchman handsome. And the way that he would behave, as if he was a King on Earth just got to him in a particular way. Of course, had the man in the suit just been arrogant for the sake of it, Sniper would have hated him, and to be totally honest, he did at the beginning. But the long van drives through the desert, the conversations they shared, the anecdotes, the banter in a word, the Australian had rarely experienced it with anyone else before. 

In a way, he saw through the suit to discover the man. And deep down  _ \- very deep down some might argue - _ the man was simple, in his own way. He led a life of minimum trouble, which Sniper could only understand. He interacted very little with anyone and kept himself to himself. 

But that day, after the cigarettes and the drinks, Spy had walked his guest back to the door and something happened. It might have been the alcohol, but Sniper liked to believe that it truly happened.

Spy had closed the gap with his friend and put his gloved hand on Sniper's vest, on his chest. He had looked up to the Aussie's eyes, and grinned. There couldn't be any mistakes, it was  _ a sweet smile,  _ it wasn't anything else, was it? Then the Frenchman's fair eyes slowly slid down Sniper's nose and stopped down at…  _ his lips. _

The Aussie remembered it almost too vividly as his heart started pounding in his chest as it had done that day. Eventually, Spy lowered his head and diverted his gaze. He had opened the door and wished a good night to his blushing friend. 

Well, after today's incident, it was now settled. Sniper had let the alcohol imagine it all. Maybe it was what part of him wanted to see? They say alcohol makes you loosen up so much that you can end up in a bush behind the pub with a sheila you'd have never even looked at otherwise…! 

Sniper wasn't drunk. He was tipsy, happy, a bit more talkative and the alcohol was responsible only for the first. The two others, it was Spy's fault. The man in the suit just knew how to talk to him and make him slide in the conversation without Sniper feeling embarrassed or awkward. It just flowed. 

The Australian didn't realise it but he was smiling. 

A knock on the door interrupted his train of thought. 

"Sniper?" 

He heard the French accent and jumped out of his seat to open his door. 

"Hey, Spy." 

He had wanted to say Spook but part of him was unsure he had opened the door to his friend or his murderer. 

"My apologies if I am bothering you in your rest or in your sleep. May I have a bit of your time, please? I… I cannot sleep." 

Sniper raised a curious eyebrow but opened his door wider. 

"Sure, come in." 

Spy stepped in and Sniper closed the door after him. 

"I'll switch on the lights, sorry-"

"It won't be necessary. And actually, I would much prefer that you leave it as it is." 

"Oh, alroight. Uhm, sit down, yeah, want anything to drink?"

Spy sat down on the worn out couch. 

"Non, merci. I have drunk the equivalent of the Mediterranean Sea and my body cannot rest. Non, I need to talk to you." 

Sniper was standing next to his door. He couldn't get closer to Spy, not after what had happened. 

"I owe you all the apologies I can find."

Sniper frowned. His guest wasn't looking at him, he was staring at the ground, his elbows on his knees.

"I apologise for the way I behave earlier today. I shouldn't have. If that is any comfort, I have been incapable of eating and I can't manage to sleep because of it." 

"It… It's not good, Spy. You should have a bite of somethin'. You worked hard today." 

"Sniper, nevermind that for a moment. I need to talk to you seriously and explain myself."

It sounded painful for the Frenchman to open up so Sniper stopped him. 

"Mate, look, you don't have to explain anythin'. You were very clear and it's ok, I got it. I won't touch yer suit." 

"The suit is not the issue. And please, come sit next to me." 

Sniper hesitated. 

"You want to search me? I came unarmed." Spy stood up and opened his arms.

"You don't need anythin' if you wanna kill me."

"And if that's what I wanted truly, you would already be lying on the floor lifeless." Spy let his arms fall along his sides and looked up at his friend. "Please Sniper. You… You are the only one I can talk to." 

The Australian came closer to his guest and both sat down on the couch. 

"It's a bad memory. One day I got caught. It was decades ago now, in East Germany…"

Sniper listened without saying anything. 

"They set out a trap and young as I was, I fell in it. They captured me strapped me to a chair and did all sorts of torture to me. You think of it? They did it. Punched, kicked, cut, sliced and burnt, amongst other things. My body is scarred beyond what a human body is capable to withstand. Eventually, they stopped." Spy paused. "After my heart did." 

Sniper's eyes snapped wide open. He looked down at his friend sitting next to him. Spy was fumbling with his fingers, slowly yet one could clearly feel the tension in him, the tight throat and the sweat, as he was bringing back memories he wished were only a nightmare.

"When I woke up, I was on a hospital bed. Someone had found me and contacted an ambulance just in time. And it all started when a hand landed on my shoulder, from behind, the same way you did earlier today." 

The Australian now understood.

"Sniper, I am a dead man who by accident, happens to be alive."

"I-I'm sorry to hear that. I had no idea…" 

Spy put a hand on his eyes. 

"Non. There's nothing wrong with you.  _ C'est moi.  _ Since then I have been living like half a man because I had already been sent to the grave." 

[It’s me.]

"Spook, it's wrong. You're roight next to me, you're alive."

"Thank you for trying, Sniper. But non. I am already gone." 

The Frenchman stood up and headed for the door. 

"I said what I needed to."

Sniper leapt up and put his hand on the Frenchman's shoulder to hold him back. As he did so, he realised what he was doing but he was ready for it. He put his fingers on his friend's shoulder and screwed his eyes shut, frowning hard, feeling that something was coming but not knowing what exactly. 

Spy put his hand on the Australian’s and twisted his entire arm, locking it behind his back as he spun on his heels. It hurt so much that the Australian fell to his knees, groaning out of pain. 

"What are you doing?! You want me to kill you!? I told you!" Spy shouted angrily, looking down at his tall friend now strangely shorter than him.

"N-no you mongrel, I want to help you, argh-I'll, I'll help."

"You can't! Nobody can!"

"Yeah I can! Shut up and stop thinking that it's you versus the entirety of life! Argh, bugger, ah…"

"And what makes you think you can, hm? Are you God himself?!"

"N-no, ya piker, but I saw the way you looked at me before I went back to my van the other day - aaargh, God it hurts, nnh! - The way you looked up at me, I saw it! I-I know it wasn't the alcohol talking, you really looked at me that way - argh, please let me go-!"

The Frenchman's frown disappeared instantly and released his grip on the Australian. Sniper stood back up and stretched his shoulder slowly, making it turn one way and the other to make the pain go away.

"Also, you could have killed me… Or hurt me badly, and you didn't do it… Ouch… Twice in the same day now." 

In the darkness of the van, silence fell. 

"Now you can go away if you want. But I won't. You need help to drum some sense in that bloody head of yours. You're alive and what you're doing is just waitin' for the end to come if you live like that. But the Spook I spent my evenin' with the other day, he wasn't like that. He laughed and he joked around, we had some really good banter. And before I went away, do you remember what he did?" 

Spy held his head low and crossed his arms on his chest. He slightly nodded. 

"You couldn't sleep today because you nearly slit my throat but that day I couldn't sleep because of yer eyes and what you did before I left your room. Spook…"

Sniper closed the gap between them. 

"Go away."

The Frenchman raised his fair eyes that Sniper saw glistened in the dark. 

"Come on. Dare go away like the bloody mongrel you are."

Spy stared at his taller friend's eyes. He leaned forward until his head landed on Sniper's chest, under his chin. He took the panes of his collar and held on to them dearly in his gloved hands. The Australian smiled and laced his arms around the poor man's sides, holding him in a dear hug. 

"Merci et pardon."

[Thank you and sorry.]

"It's nothing."

  
  



	24. French kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Fic request for whenever you like! Sniper and spy have been dating for a little while, and they've already had their first kiss, but one day Spy gently tries to french kiss him and he freaks out (and maybe runs off to the next room?) Because he's very insecure and never learned how to french kiss. Spy goes to check on him (naturally) and sniper is frantically apologizing over and over. Spy doesn't judge and calmly asks if the aussie wants him to teach him to kiss. (Ofc he says yes) 👀👀"

* * *

"Today has been a delight with you, Sniper." 

"Yeah, same."

The marksman and the masked man were on the sofa, Spy leaning his head on his lover's shoulder. Sniper looked down at the older man and bent down. Their lips met quickly and the Australian was about to withdraw when the Frenchman's hand went around his neck and pulled him in to stay longer. Sniper gladly obliged. 

"You are adorable." Spy said as their lips parted. 

"Well, heh…" Sniper blushed. 

"Even more so now that you blush." 

"Ah, y-yeah, roight, I mean…"

"Hm…" 

Spy snuggled up closer to his lover and put a hand on his chest, stroking him slowly. 

"Sniper?"

"Yeah?" 

"I cannot possibly get enough of you." He purred and slid his hand under his lover's shirt, between the buttons. The Australian felt his lover's cold fingers on his bare chest and shivered.

"M-me neither…"

To Spy's ears, it was a demand and the last thing he wanted was to make the Australian wait. So he raised his head and pushed himself up to his lover's lips. Sniper put his hands on the Frenchman's cheeks, pulling him closer. 

They ended up bending so much that Sniper laid on the sofa on his back and his lover climbed on him. 

"Mon Dieu, you make me feel decades younger." 

"So do you."

Spy raised a questioning eyebrow to his friend and Sniper smiled. 

"You're younger than I am." 

"Yeah, it's true." 

"Do you find that it is an issue?" Spy was resting on Sniper's chest. 

"N-no, I mean, nah." 

"You hesitate?" 

"I… Uh…" The Australian brushed his thumbs on Spy's face, on his mask but mostly around his mouth, where his skin was bare. "I just love you with… With everythin'." 

"So do I, Sniper. I love you with this…" Spy put his index on Sniper's forehead. "And with this…" He pointed at his chest. " _ And all the rest."  _

Sniper smiled so innocently, it warmed the Frenchman's heart.

"You are somethin' else…" 

Spy wiggled his eyebrows. 

"Had I said it, you would have complained that I was bragging." 

"Of course I would!"

The Frenchman giggled and dived to his lover's lips. 

_ "Viens ici, mon beau…"  _

_ [Come here, handsome…] _

Their lips met again but this time both parties wanted it to last longer. After all, they were laying on the sofa, their legs mingled and their hands slid from clothes to faces to hair. 

"Hmm…" 

Oh that low, gravelly moan, that growl…! It punched Spy's insides and prompted him to go further. He had wanted it for quite some time. 

As he took Sniper's upper lip, his tongue slowly slipped out and slithered delicately until it touched the Australian's. 

"Huh?!"

Sniper gasped and pulled away instantly. 

"What's the matter-oh?"

He pushed the Frenchman away and left the room as fast as a draft, leaving Spy confused and frowning. 

_ "Bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger…" _

Sniper rushed out of the base and hid away in his van, locking it up. He caught his breath and looked around him. His bed, he needed his bed. He jumped up in it and hid under the cover, his breath still erratic, his heart beating fast.

_ Bugger, bugger, bugger… Bloody stupid me. It was bound to happen, of course it was… Can't keep it to just lip kisses, of course not, not with anyone, especially not with him… _

"Sniper?" 

The Frenchman's voice resounded from the other side of the van's door.

"Get lost!" 

Spy rolled his eyes up and smiled. 

"Fine, I will…" He walked away and Sniper relaxed.

He didn’t want Spy to see him that way and ask him why and how and whatnot. He needed to stay alone. He needed to go away from all that. It was too much, way too much. He even started to regret his relationship with the Frenchman. Could he walk away from it? Did he want it?

Of course not! He loved Spy, he really did. The flutters of his heart, the butterflies in his stomach, the feeling of being loved, that if anything happened, there was a person who would hold him in their arms. And what person! Spy bloody hell! A man so handsome and charming he could get anyone with as much as a snap of his fingers. And he was so respectful, he never rushed Sniper, he always went at the Aussie’s pace. They had been together for more than a month and that might have been the best month in Sniper’s life. The afternoons and evenings just laying lazily in Spy’s arms, or the other way around... 

Sniper sighed.

“I can’t just tell him the truth. I can’t tell him that… that I’ve never kissed anyone  _ that way _ before…”

“Of course you can tell me, and I can show you.”

Sniper froze in his bed. He removed the cover and out of a thin cloud of smoke, his lover appeared.

“What are you doing here?”

“Comforting you.”

“How did you get in?”

“Through the door.”

“It was locked!”

“Not anymore.”

Sniper sighed.

“Look,  _ mon amour,  _ I do not see any issue.”

“Well I do.”

“Come out of your bed. Please.”

“Do I have to?” 

Spy gave him the raised eyebrow that said  _ “Oui”. _

“Alroight.”

The Australian climbed down of his bed and stood there awkwardly.

“Relax.” Spy purred as he got closer. But Sniper tensed up.

“I-I can’t.”

“Oui, you can.” As soon as Spy put his hands on the Australian’s cheeks, the latter melted. “Now, close your eyes and trust me.”

Sniper’s breath accelerated.

“Don’t worry, Sniper…”

“I-mh…” Spy slowly pushed his lips against his lover’s and the tall man felt his insides get hotter and hotter. The way that Spy was playing with his lips, tasting them lazily, was enough to make him lose his mind. The Aussie couldn’t resist anymore and put his hands on Spy’s sides, pulling him close and stroking with open palms. He needed to feel that all of his lover was for him, entirely and solely.

And he felt it. Spy did it again. He slowly gave a lick, quick and prude to his upper lip, just as a test. Sniper opened his eyes. He saw his lover with his eyes screwed shut. Spy looked focused, very much so. The Aussie parted.

“N-no, I can’t do this, it’s weird.”

Spy opened his light blue, almost grey eyes and looked up at him.

“I won’t force you if you don’t want it, but I would gladly show you more.”

“It’s not that I don’t want it, it’s uh… It’s weird, alright?”

“It is only as weird as you make it. It is however the most enjoyable in my opinion.”

“Can you, uh, explain it to me before you do it?”

Spy chuckled.

“This is not how it works,  _ mon amour _ . An act of love you never explain. It’s a spark that sets you on fire only if all the conditions are met, otherwise, it burns you in the most uncomfortable fashion.”

“So you don’t want to tell me?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it can only be felt. Now, please, would you let me show you?”

Sniper looked uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to accept.”

“N-no. I trust you and I love you. If there’s ever someone I want to do this with, it’s with you.”

“You are sure?”

“Yeah, do it. I won’t back off.”

Sniper closed his eyes and pouted in an awkward and ridiculous way. Spy smiled and rolled his eyes before he took his lover by his lips once again. He removed his gloves and slid his hands on the Australian’s face, left and right, up along his cheeks until he reached his sideburns and hair.

The Australian couldn’t hold back his moans and he was in his van anyway, with no one around, so he let it all go and when Spy felt that his lover had forgotten, he gently stuck his tongue out. This time he went for it and massaged it against Sniper’s, lazily and lasciviously. He wanted to make the Aussie enjoy the full blown thing and he knew that he would like it. As always, the Frenchman turned to be right. 

At first, Sniper didn’t know what to do with his tongue so he just left it there for Spy to do what he had to do. But he got curious and moved slightly. Instantly, Spy let a high-pitched moan out and it sawed Sniper’s ears in half, sending shivers everywhere and making his knees wobble. Suddenly he wanted more of it, more of that slick sensation that made him and his lover weak. So he gathered his courage and answered the Frenchman’s love with his own. And it got more intense on both parts. 

Spy clenched his lover’s hair in his fingers while Sniper pulled his lover’s waist against his, now they could feel their lower abdomen against each other. Both moaned and breathed louder until Sniper finally broke the kiss.

He needed to land from his high. He needed some air.

“Woah… Spy…” The Aussie lowered his head and panted.

“Not bad for your first time.” The Frenchman arrogantly answered. “And I do believe you enjoyed this, non?”

“It was… bloody… amazin’...”

“I told you that you would like it. You see, these are things you cannot express into words. You have to live it and with the right person, it is a delight.”

“Bloody hell… Thanks for uh… Teachin’ me I guess.”

“I taught you nothing. You just discovered it with me.”

“It-it’s so strong… It’s like you weren’t kissin’ just my mouth but everything…!”

“Oh, I can easily show you how good  _ that _ feels. But let us proceed slowly.”

“No.” Spy’s eyebrows jumped and he looked at his lover curiously. “I don’t care about slowly, I want you.”

Sniper latched on his lover again, pushing him powerfully against the opposite wall. The Frenchman’s back hit it with a thud and he welcomed his lover’s intimate intrusion with a roll of his eyes and long moan. Sniper drank it like a delicacy.

The night was long and despite the cold of the winter, the van was hot.


	25. Stage anxiety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I would like to suggest a little blurb based upon the proposal prompt. I'm really shy with this so please excuse me if it's not the best prompt.
> 
> Sniper and Spy are getting ready for their small wedding in France where they're currently living at. However a few hours before the wedding, Sniper starts having stage fright because he can't seem to remember the right things to say or do. Spy comes to save the day and reassure him."

* * *

"You look bloody amazin'..." 

"You are not supposed to see my outfit before,  _ mon amour. _ It brings bad luck, even though such a belief holds for the bride's dress usually." 

Mundy put his hands on Lucien's sides from behind and stuck his cheek to his soon to be husband while he adjusted his bowtie.

"Does that mean you're the sheila then?"

"As long as I'm yours."

"Pff, I'm not marryin' a sheila. It's the best man in the world I'm getting." Mundy squeezed his lover between his arms and Lucien chuckled. 

"I do believe that it is true indeed. You are a very lucky man." 

"Oi, don't start braggin', eh!" 

"I wasn't the one to start."

" _ Touchey."  _

Lucien raised his index. 

"Uh, uh, uh! I told you already, Mundy."

"Yeah, yeah, it's  _ 'touché',  _ not  _ touchey.  _ Can't help it, I learnt the word that way." 

"And yet you are almost fluent in French now." 

"Yeah, almost…" 

Both men had moved together in France and after a few months spent in the capital, they had moved to where Lucien came from, the South-West. Mundy discovered the region of the wine and duck-based delicacies. The sunshine didn't compare with the Aussie's native country but was much better than the dull grey sky of Paris. The air was more fresh and the proximity with  _ la forêt des Landes _ , the largest forest in France, as well as with the Atlantic Ocean was a delight for both men. They spent easy and lazy days under the sun. 

But today was special. They were taking an oath, to stay faithful and love each other  _ until death does them apart… _

"Alright, Mundy, I am ready."

"So am I. And thanks for helpin' me out with the bowtie. I'm bad with those things." 

"Well, that's why you need me,  _ mon chaton." _

[My kitten]

"Yeah, it's true."

"Let me make a few phone calls."

"Now?" Mundy asked. 

"Oui."

"To whom?"

"Everyone! I want to make sure everything is going according to plan."

The Australian rolled his eyes. 

"Put that bloody phone back, it's all perfect, you've already checked a million times!" 

"It doesn't cost more to do it one more time, just to be absolutely sure-oh!"

Mundy had taken the phone off his lover's hand and put it back away. 

"Nah, it's true, it doesn't cost more, but today is our day…" 

Lucien turned to face his lover and wrapped his arms around his neck. 

"Indeed it is." The Frenchman confirmed. 

"Oh, I thought  _ someone  _ didn't believe in  _ 'getting married and happy ever after'...?" _ Mundy teased. 

"The fact that I am dressed impeccably in this white suit with you, about to say my vows to you, clearly shows that I have changed my mind." 

"Yeah, 'm glad you have."

" _ You _ made me change."

"O'course, blame good old me." Mundy bent down and pressed his forehead against his lover's. 

"Hm, oui, of course. It cannot possibly be _my_ _fault_ , non?" 

"Pff, you bastard…" The Australian snickered.

"And soon  _ husband."  _ Lucien corrected.

"Y'know, I so want to kiss you but if I do…"

"I know, you will start kissing and by the sheer force of my charms, you will get carried away and we will not attend this wedding. Now on any occasion I would be more than willing to, but I am told that we cannot skip that one instance." 

"Stop it with yer smug smile and all…"

"Or what?" Lucien wiggled his eyebrows. He felt Mundy's hands slide down from his sides and to his lower back until he powerfully grabbed  _ what he liked… _

The Frenchman let a meaningful sigh escape.

"Ooh!"

" _ Or we'll skip the thing and go straight to the weddin' night…"  _ Mundy growled.

"I wouldn't be against it but  _ someone  _ insisted on the  _ 'getting married and happy ever after…'" _ Lucien cheekily answered.

Mundy rolled his eyes. 

"Fine, I will stop tempting you,  _ for now.  _ Shall we? They must be waiting." 

Lucien offered his arm that Mundy gladly took. 

"Alroight-oh! Actually y-you go first, I need a minute."

"Fine, I will go and wait.  _ Mon amour?"  _

_ [My love?] _

"Hm?" The Australian raised his eyebrows. 

" _ Embrasse-moi." _

_ [Kiss me.] _

Their lips met and Mundy couldn't help holding and squeezing his lover warmly. 

"Fine, I will see you in a minute." 

"Go ahead." 

Lucien left the room with a wink before he closed the door. Mundy stayed in front of the mirror. 

"Roight, gotta be good." He cleared his throat. "Priest will talk first then Lu' will say stuff and then I just have to say  _ 'I do'. _ After that, I say the stuff… Uh… What is it again…" 

The Australian scratched his forehead and hissed. 

"Uhm… I uh, I take Lu' - ah, Lucien - I take Lucien as my uh, bugger…! Bloody bad memory, not today…!" 

He went to the door and opened it ever so slightly to look outside. He could see that everyone was gathered in the spacious garden. 

"Oh God, they're all waiting…" 

He closed the door and felt the cold sweat drip down his spine. He came back in front of the mirror. Mundy put a chair and sat on it, facing his reflection. 

"Roight, roight I can remember, don't panic, it's fine, you're not forgetting yer bloody vows, c'mon, come on…" 

Mundy took a deep breath and screwed his eyes shut again.

"I, Lucien take - No, I'm not Lu'... I, Mundy take Lucien because uh, because I love him? No, that's not it, argh, bloody hell…!"

_ "Mundy?"  _

"Argh?!" The Australian jumped on his chair. The voice with the French accent startled him.

"Are you alright? Everyone is waiting." Lucien put his hand on his lover's shoulder and Mundy lowered his head. 

"I can't do this…" 

"You don't want this wedding anymore?" 

"No, of course I do… I just… I can't remember what I have to say, even in English. I'm-I'm a bloody disgrace, I'm getting married, bugger!"

"Hey." Lucien squatted down next to his lover's knee and put his hand on it. "Mundy, I am going first anyway. I will say the text and you can just repeat it."

"I'll forget it. Between the moment you say your part and I do mine, I have to say  _ 'I do' _ and then the priest does somethin'... I can't even bloody remember…"

" _ Mon amour…"  _ Lucien put his hands on his lover's cheeks and cupped his head, slowly stroking his rough skin.

"No, I'm bloody incapable of doin' anything. I-I'm stupid, I'm an idiot, this is supposed to be the best day of our lives and I'm ruining it for me and more importantly for you…! Pff…." 

Mundy hid his face in his hands and lowered his head.

"Mundy, look at me." 

"No…"

"Please, look up." 

"No…! I'm… I'm so sorry. I'm ruining your marriage."

" _ Hé, toi…" _

_ [Hey, you…] _

Mundy sighed. 

_ "Toi, l'homme de ma vie…" _

_ [You, the love of my life…] _

The Australian raised his defeated eyes. 

"Mundy, I will mime the lines and you'll just have to read on my lips." 

"I can't…!"

"Look at me…" Lucien mimed some words. "What did I just say?" 

"I love you more than anything?" The Australian asked.

"So do I." Lucien answered with the sweetest smile, even the lines at the corners of his eyes grinned. And what about his irises… two ice drops in the middle of the finest and most beautiful face Mundy had ever seen. 

"Now, Mundy. Let us go and let the people know that you are my husband. I am tired of you being only my uhm…"

_ "Partner? Companion?" _

"Whatever the word is, forget it. In a minute, you will be  _ Monsieur Lucien." _

The Frenchman offered his arm and the Australian took it.

"Oi, I think ye'll find that  _ you _ will become  _ Mister Mundy." _

"In your wildest dreams,  _ mon amour." _

"Tsssk…" 

The Australian took his first step towards the door. 

"Wait, Mundy?" 

"Hm?" He turned to face Lucien. 

"You have just made this day even more special for me, and I hadn't seen it coming." 

"Are ya sayin' I managed to surprise an old spook?" 

"Maybe, maybe… But wait for tonight and the secret service agent  _ will _ take you, mister hunter, by surprise."

"Can't wait…" 

They opened the door and stepped in their new lives.


	26. Perle's game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One about Lucien's cat, Perle.
> 
> "Perle tries to outdo her master in "sneaking". It starts off with her just trying to scare him for fun, but then they get more competitive with each other. And then one day they gang up on Mundy >:3"

* * *

"Meow!"

"Mon Dieu Perle! Tu m'as fait peur!"

[My God Pearl! You scared me!]

The Frenchman put a hand on his chest and caught his breath. His furry companion had taken a liking at giving him frights as of late.

"On my lap, you fluffy devil…!"

The white feline with blue eyes jumped on her master's lap and purred under his fingers. 

"What is this new game you have, hm? You want to scare me all the time? You think you can  _ out-sneak _ on me?"

The lady cat stood on her back paws to brush her head on her master's mouth. The Frenchman smiled and kissed his companion. 

"Oi there!" 

"Ah, the jealous one." 

"The jealous one? I have a name, ya Spook!"

"Oui, and it is  _ 'the jealous one'.  _ Come and have breakfast with me." 

"You're lucky I'm hungry." 

"Or what? You would renounce the pleasure to be fed by the most handsome man you ever laid your eyes on?" The Frenchman wiggled his eyebrows. 

"Oh shut up…" Mundy smiled and rolled his eyes as he grabbed a chair and sat next his lover. Lucien bent on his side and they exchanged a kiss out of habit, without really thinking. 

"You had a pleasant night?" The Frenchman asked. 

"Too short, thank you for that."

"As if you would complain…"

"Tssk."

Lucien poured some coffee for his lover and passed him the mug. 

"Thanks, luv'." 

The Frenchman smiled. That hoarse voice calling him 'love'... If he had been a cat, he would have purred. 

" _ Avec plaisir."  _

_ [My pleasure.] _

They went on their breakfasts. 

"So…?" Mundy started. 

"So what?"

"I was told I'd be fed by the most handsome man I've ever seen…" The Australian looked left and right. "Can't see him around…"

"Hey! Open your eyes Bushman!" Lucien nudged him. 

"Oh now I'm back to  _ 'Bushman',  _ aren't I?" 

"Oui, you've looked for it!" 

"C'mon, don't pout like that…" Mundy wrapped an arm around his lover and bent to him. "You just look more adorable." 

He put his finger on his lover's nose. 

"Especially when you pull up yer nose like that. You're bloody cute."

" _ Cute?" _ Lucien repeated and while he was distracted, Mundy stole his toast off his very hand. "Hey!" 

"Well…" The Australian chewed on the toast loudly. " _ Nom, nom, nom… _ If you aren't gonna feed me, then I'll do it meself." 

"Ah…" Lucien sighed. "You tire me,  _ mon chaton." _

_ [My kitten.] _

"Toast?" Mundy held the half-bitten toast in front of his lover's lips.

"You are insufferable." Lucien bit into it.

"Not enough for you to refuse, eh?"

"Hm-mh!" 

"Oi, don't talk with yer mouth full!"

"I beg your pardon? You did that half a minute ago!" 

"Yeah, cause you love me." 

"Pff…"

And that was the banter that kept them both alive. From the moment they woke up to the moment they fell asleep, their conversations were sometimes playful and sometimes passionate, but they were always between two people who loved and respected each other. 

"Have any plans fer today?" 

"Non, not really. I would love to stay lazily home with you, or follow you if you need to go out."

"You creepy old man, you wanna follow me?!"

"Why do you make it sound so bad?" 

"Cause it is…! Now, you perv', if ya insist, you can follow me to the shower maybe, hm?" Mundy finished drinking his coffee and wiggled his eyebrows. The Frenchman smirked. 

"Is this an invitation?" 

"You need a card too?" 

Lucien chuckled. 

"Go first, I'll follow in a minute."

"Roight." 

Mundy stood up and left a kiss on his lover's head as he headed for the shower. The latter finished his coffee and gently pushed Perle, the lady cat, out of his lap before joining the Australian. 

They had a quick wash, as quick as it could be when they were taking a shower together, and exited soon. 

"Mmh… I love ya." Mundy kissed his lover for no reason other than he could. "I need to get the van to town. Needs some repairs. You stay at home meanwhile?" 

"Oui, I think I will."

They both got dressed and Lucien walked his lover to the door. 

"Please come back fast…" 

Mundy looked down and smiled. 

"Will do. And look who's the kitten now." 

He tapped his lover's nose and winked at him before closing the door and leaving. Lucien's shoulders sank and he wrapped his arms around himself, walking back to the bedroom. 

The bed needed to be made and it was high time some fresh air flowed in the room. Lucien pushed the bedroom door and-

"Meow!"

"Argh?!" Perle had startled him. "Oh I hate when you do this…" 

The feline meowed back as if to mock her master.

"And you talk back…? You,  _ mademoiselle,  _ are taking a bad example off Mundy!" 

She brushed her long fur on his ankles as she passed to the living-room. The Frenchman bent down and let his fingertips brush his companion's back. He then proceeded to his chores, his hand on the physical objects around him but his heart and mind he had left in the palm of Mundy's hand. 

When Lucien emerged from the bedroom, he heard Perle scratching her claws on the post he had bought for her. He smirked. 

_ Time for a payback… _

He walked silently behind her, remembering his days as a spy, creeping like a shadow. And suddenly-

_ "Booh!" _

_ "Meeeeeow?!?" _

Perle screeched and jumped on her feet, arching her back. Her fluffy hair puffed up everywhere. 

"That's what you get!" Lucien smiled at her. 

He walked past her and cleared the breakfast table which led him to the kitchen to wash the dishes. Perle jumped on the kitchen top and sat there, watching him proceed. Lucien raised his head and looked at her. 

"You are lucky you don't have to do this,  _ ma chérie." _

_ [Sweetheart] _

"Meow." 

Her fluffy white tail waved left and right. 

"Fine, I apologise for earlier, it was very childish of me. But you have to stop scaring me all the time, hm?"

Perle was licking her paw. She stopped and looked at her master before blinking with both eyes. 

"Fine. We are square now."

"Meow…?"

"Non, you don't scare me we said, not even just one time."

"Meeeow?"

"You may plead with all the meows in the world,  _ mademoiselle _ , it won't do."

[Young lady.]

She came back to cleaning herself.

"However…" Perle stopped yet again and looked at Lucien who finished with the dishes and wiped his hands. "We could think of something for Mundy." 

"Meow?" 

"I don't know what yet. But let's do it this way…" He got closer to his companion and looked her straight in the eye. "Let's sneak up on him  _ together." _

Perle brushed her face against her master. 

"I take that as a yes." 

"Meow."

About an hour later, the Australian came back home. 

"Hey luv'. I'm back. Sorry it took so bloody long. Traffic was hell today cause they started some construction work on the main ave-"

Mundy realised there was not a single sound in the flat. 

"Lu'? You here?" 

Nothing. The Australian went to the sofa and sat down. Perle jumped on his lap.

"Hello pretty cat…" He stroked her fur and she purred. "D'you know where Lu' is?"

"Meow."

"Tell me then. His shoes are still here so he didn't leave the place - oh, what's that?"

Perle sat on Mundy's lap and he noticed something was on her collar. He took the rolled up note and read. 

_ "Attrape-moi si tu peux." _

_ [Catch me if you can.] _

The Australian rolled up his eyes and smiled. 

"Ah, is that what we're doin' eh?" 

"Meow." 

"Roight. Better start lookin' for him now if I wanna find him before next year…" 

Perle trotted away from the tall man who stood up and looked left and right. 

"I'll start easy, maybe he's not that well hidden… Lu', wherever you are, I'm comin' to find ya!"

He walked across each room in the flat but of course, to no avail. The Frenchman saw him but didn't move and only smiled. 

"Lu'? Don't tell me you went in a cupboard or in the fridge?" 

Lucien heard him and rolled his eyes. He was a spy, not a tin can or some leftover…

"Roight clearly you didn't squeeze in there…" Mundy shut the fridge. "So where can you be eh? If I was you, where would I go? Uh… Somewhere absurd."

Lucien's eyebrows jumped.  _ Absurd?! Really?! _

"Like uh… I don't know, the shower?" 

Mundy went to check but found no handsome man in the shower. 

"You gotta help me mate, say somethin', I'll hear you and it'll guide me."

"Meow?"

Perle was brushing herself on the tall man's legs. 

"You must know where he is, help me pretty cat, please." 

She stood on her back paws and looked up at Mundy. 

"Wait, you got another note on yer collar… This one says…  _ If you find me, my location becomes the hottest in the flat. _ The hottest? What's the hottest thing around here?" 

"Meow."

"Yeah, apart from Lu' himself… The oven? He can't have gone there. The boiler maybe? Nah, he wouldn't go there either, too dusty. Uh…"

He looked at the note that he held in his hand. 

"If you find me, my location becomes the hottest in the flat. Nah, has to be the boiler… I'll check it out. The Australian opened the door to the small room that contained the boiler and some boxes with old belongings. 

"MEEEOW?!"

"BLOODY HELL?!" 

Perle jumped out of it and made Mundy jump on his feet. 

"Pretty cat, you scared me!"

"Meow…!" 

"Don't take example on Lu', he's a terrible one to follow. Also, there's no Lucien here…"

Mundy read the note again.

_ If you find me, my location becomes the hottest in the flat.  _

"Wait. That means if I'm with him there, it - oh the bloody mongrel… I know where you are Lu' and I'm comin' for ya!" 

Mundy walked decidedly to the bedroom and flung the door open. 

"What took you so long?" 

"Oh, Lord…" 

There he was, Lucien, the most handsome man the Earth had seen since the beginning of humanity, laying in the middle of the bed like a Greek statue in his most natural attire. The sun flooded the room through the windows and Lucien's skin shone beautifully under the rays of light. 

Mundy's jaw had dropped and the note slipped out of his fingers to gently glide to the floor. His breath had cut short.

The Frenchman saw the effect he had on his lover and it punched him softly in his guts. 

"I won't wait the whole day, Monsieur Mundy." 

"No you bloody won't…" 

The Australian got himself as naked as his lover and joined him. 

_ If you find me, my location becomes the hottest in the flat. _

Lucien used to lie. Not anymore.


	27. Vana's request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My best buddy Vana asked me this : 
> 
> "Mundy asks Lucien if he wants to go to the movie theater for a date (Lucien also came up with this idea), after that, Lucien asks Mundy if he wants to go to the restaurant (Mundy thought about the same plan), in a couple hours, Mundy wants to propose his lover in that "breathtaking" moment, at the end, they both going to the house for a ekhm, ekhm... romantic things in the bedroom :smirk:"

* * *

"Hey, luv', I'm home!"

The Australian pushed the door and entered. 

"And what time do you call this?" The French accent sung. 

"Well, about 5 in the afternoon. It's not late at all!"

"It is. I've been missing you terribly."

The Australian joined his lover on the sofa and the Frenchman directly straddled his thighs and hugged him, leaning his head on his lover's shoulder. 

"Looks like it, eh? I was just away for what, fifteen minutes?"

"It felt like fifteen years."

"Lucien…"

The Frenchman squeezed his lover harder. 

"Alroight, y'know what?"

"Hm?" Lucien nuzzled in his lover's neck. Lord, how he loved that cheap cologne…!

"What about spendin' the rest of the day together eh?"

"But Mundy, didn't you need to go out again for the van?"

"Yeah but look at you, clinging to me like a koala to a tree. Nah, the van will wait. I'm takin' care of ya." 

Lucien smiled and left a quick peck on his lover's neck. 

"Thank you,  _ mon amour." _

_ [My love.] _

"Thank me later. First we need to figure out what we want to do. Any preferences…?"

"Did  _ you _ have something in mind?"

"We could go to the movies." Mundy said.

"Excellent, I was going to suggest it too." 

"Did you want to go for that new comedy that's out there?"

"Oui, the romantic one." 

"I knew it…" Mundy lowered his head and kissed his lover's lips quickly while his hands brushed the Frenchman's back. "Roight, let's go now before too many people get there." 

"Fine. Let me just take a coat." 

A few minutes later, both men were in the van en route for the cinema. It wasn't too far from their place and when they arrived, they realised that it wasn't too crowded. They bought their tickets and sat side by side at the back of the room.

None of them were passionate about movies in general but one thing they both loved was the total darkness inside. 

"Want some popcorn?" Mundy asked. 

"Uhm… Oui, why not?"

"Savoury, roight?"

"Well, I am told there is no  _ Mundy flavour  _ yet for popcorn…" The Frenchman answered, faking sadness.

" _ Crikey, Lu'...!" _

Mundy blushed and his lover smirked. 

"So I'll take savoury, oui,  _ s'il te plaît mon ange." _

_ [please my angel.] _

"Roight."

They sat at the back of the room. They liked it up there, far from anyone else, right in front of the projector. It seemed as though the entire room was just for them. 

The lights turned off and the loud sound resonated in their chests. Lucien found Mundy's shoulder and leaned on it. The Australian leaned his head against his lover's and slid his fingers between the Frenchman's. 

That's why they liked the movie theatre. They could behave like any  _ normal  _ couple, they could display an infinitesimal part of their love, they could hold hands and even exceptionally, share a kiss, under the cover of the darkness and the loud sound system. 

As usual, they started the movie each on their seat and in the end, Lucien was using his lover's shoulder as his pillow. He loved it there. The warmth and the slight rocking left and right, under Mundy's breath. 

As the lights switched back on, they were back to being  _ friends _ to the other eyes in the room. They collected their coats and exited, heading for the van. 

"Do you want to head back home?" Lucien asked. 

"Actually, not really. I'd love to get somethin' to eat at this fancy place you took me to, when we had just moved in together. Is that okay with you?" 

"I thought it was  _ 'too posh and awfully expensive'…?" _

Mundy started driving and rolled his eyes.

"Well yeah it is but… I don't know why, I-I like it anyways. I remember how you were dressed when we first went there. You looked amazin'."

"I  _ looked _ amazing? In the past?" 

"Oh don't start…!" 

"I will, you can't stop me!"

Mundy looked at his lover quickly and saw the most smug smirk on the most magnificent man. 

"But I appreciate it. I wanted to have something to eat outside too." Lucien said. 

"Figured as much since you were the one to ask me if I wanted to get back home… Ah there it is. D'you see any parkin' slots?" 

"Uh, oui, on the left there." 

"Perfect." 

The Australian parked the van and pulled the handbrake. 

"Mundy?" 

"Hm?"

"We haven't booked in advance, I doubt there will be any tables available."

"That's true. Let's get in and see."

The two men hopped off the van and entered the restaurant. 

"A table for two. Name's Mundy." 

Lucien raised an eyebrow but didn't dare say anything in front of the waiter. He waited to be sat somewhere and then looked up at his lover, one eyebrow raised. 

"You lied to me." 

Mundy opened wide eyes. 

"Whot?" 

"You had booked in advance?"

"Yeah."

"Then you were dishonest with me,  _ mon amour…" _

"Nah. You said  _ 'we'  _ haven't booked, and that's true. Only  _ I did." _

Lucien rolled his eyes. 

"Oh you know what I meant!" The Frenchman sighed and smiled.

"Ha!" Mundy laughed, triumphant. "Get a taste of yer own bloody medicine."

"What?!" 

"Since I've known you, you've never stopped playin' tricks on me. Get tricked now!"

Lucien chuckled. 

"It seems like I will have to up my game, as they say." The Frenchman answered. 

A waiter came and took their order. They couldn't help but choose the same thing they did back on that evening years ago. Was it nostalgia for their first night together as a couple who had grown out of themselves? One had put his rifle down, the other, his knife and tricks.

Maybe, maybe. 

However, it made sense for both to take the same menu as they had and each noticed but kept silent about it. It was better sometimes to silently witness the magic of two souls vibrating at the same wavelength. Commenting it would break it, would break the moment. 

They just stared at the other's eyes while enjoying their food. Their eyes held a conversation that their mouths didn't and couldn't. It was wordless but both felt the intensity of the other's feelings, in the gaze, in the pupils, the irises. 

They shared their meal silently, yes, but it wasn't to say that they hadn't shared their thoughts. 

The bill finally landed on the table. 

"I'll take it this time." Mundy said and Lucien did not argue. Last time, he had. "But before I do, I have somethin' I wanna say." 

The Frenchman raised an eyebrow. He watched as his lover pushed back his chair and stood up slowly. 

"Ahem." 

Mundy cleared his throat. He blushed. It felt like all the eyes in the restaurant were riveted on him. 

_ Ah, bugger, here we go… _

As a shy man, he knew it all to well. The wobbling knees, the heart pounding so hard it would burst out of his chest, the blush rushing up to his cheeks and ears. 

"Are you alright,  _ mon ange?" _

_ [My angel] _

Lucien did not understand why his lover was standing next to him, in the middle of the restaurant.

"Uh… Uh… Yes." 

Mundy frowned and pulled himself together. He put a hand in his pocket and nodded to himself. 

_ I can do this.  _

He sank to one knee. 

"I-I lied to you. When I went out earlier it was to pick this up… Uhm…"

Mundy took the small box that was in his pocket and showed it to his lover.

"Lu', listen, y-you're the best thing to have happened in my life you're, you're everything. You're handsome, charmin', caring and romantic unlike any bloke I've met before. Since day one, you've just… You've taken my breath away!"

The Australian gulped down his dry throat as Lucien was realising what was happening. Yes everyone in the restaurant had stopped talking, the chatter fell silent and the concerto of cutlery on plates ceased.

"I love you and uh, I'm sure that I want to be with no one else but you for the rest of my life so uh…"

Mundy opened the small box to reveal a golden ring. 

"Please, stay with me." 

He raised his eyes to the Frenchman's. They were full of tears. Lucien chuckled.

"You don't say anythin'?" Mundy asked, disappointed. He felt the cold dagger of heartbreak pierce his chest slowly. 

"You haven't asked anything." Lucien answered. 

"Uh, would you… I mean do you want to uh…" Mundy closed his eyes. "Marry me?" 

He felt the box disappear from his hand and opened his eyes to see what had happened to it. Lucien put it on the table and cupped Mundy's face with his naked hands. 

_ "Bien sûr que je le veux." _

_ [Of course I do.] _

The Frenchman pulled his lover's face to his and regardless of the million eyes on them, he kissed his lips tenderly, a silent tear flowing down his old, tired cheek.

When they hit home that night, they went straight to bed and Lucien laid on his favourite mattress: Mundy himself. They laced their fingers together and stared at the golden rings. 

"Mundy?" 

"Hm?"

"You surprised me tonight."

"Did I?"

"Hm-mh." The Frenchman nodded, his head on his lover's chest. "If a proposal was ever to happen, I would have bet it would be me proposing to you, not the other way around."

"I-I just… I think it's the right moment and uh… We don't need to do anythin' for it I mean. We can't really get married anyway so…"

"To me, we are."

Mundy slid his fingers through the silky salt and pepper hair of his lover. 

"Mundy, getting married is a commitment to yourself first and foremost. I don't need no church or priest or anything for that. In that sense, I have been married to you for a long time already. Or that is how it felt to me anyway."

"Really? Wait, what d'you mean?" 

"I mean that I have found my other half. I stopped walking in the streets wondering if this stranger or that passer-by was my soulmate and how ridiculous it would be to just cross paths, be that near to them, only to lose them forever. Non. I know where my lost half is, I am laying on top of it."

Lucien raised his head and dropped his lips on the Australian for a kiss that he wanted quick. It turned out that Mundy wanted it to last longer. After what Lucien had said, the taller man felt all his body buzzing on the inside. He wrapped his arms around his lover and put a hand behind his head to pull him against himself longer. 

_ "Hmm… I like it when you kiss me for a long time like this."  _ Lucien whispered. 

"I love you so much… You make me feel things that no one else did before you. I'm all hot and fuzzy and uh, I don't know, I just love you bloody hell! I want us to stay like this forever."

Mundy squeezed his lover harder and Lucien smiled. 

"So do I,  _ mon amour." _

_ [My love.] _

Lucien buried his head in the Australian's neck but couldn't resist letting his lips nibble at it softly. Mundy's mouth opened and he grasped his lover's hair behind his head. A low moan flew out of his lips and he raised a knee to wrap a leg around Lucien's. The Frenchman felt it and slid his hands to the button of the polo shirt…

_ Of his fiancé?  _

_ Non. His husband. _

  
  
  



	28. Perle's boofs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perle, Spy's cat knows how to use her paws: 
> 
> "its like poof but yknow she means for it to hurt  
> boof.  
> imagine Mundy teaching Perle how to boof  
> OMG  
> CAN THIS BE A SHORT"

The keys jingled against the lock and the door opened. It was late in the evening and the Frenchman entered. He leaned his back against the door to close it and closed his eyes.

_ "Merde…" _

_ [Shit…] _

He had messed up. Oh Lord how hard he did…

"Meow?"

Spy sighed. His lady cat companion, Perle, came to brush herself on his legs. He sank to the ground and sat on the floor. 

"Mon Dieu… I tried Perle. I can't." 

The cat hopped in between her master's thighs as he sat cross-legged. 

"Meow."

"I know. I did the mistake, I have to repair it. But I can't. I can't bring myself to do it." 

And it pained him. The only thing that stopped him from apologising was his ego. 

"Meow?"

"Of course I want to see him. I… Perle, I miss him so much. I want to hold him in my arms, I want to feel him against me, I…"

He couldn't say it. It was too strong, too pure maybe. Perle raised her blue eyes to her master and hissed. The Frenchman raised a curious eyebrow. 

"What?"

She stood on her back paws and brushed her head on her master's mouth. He held her close and closed his eyes, feeling her soft hug and shy warmth comfort him. 

"Perle…  _ Aide-moi…" _

_ [Help me…] _

The cat stopped her hug and looked at her master. She raised her soft white paw and it met the Frenchman's cheek fast. Spy opened wide eyes. 

"Did you just…  _ slap me?" _

"Meow!" 

She aggressively answered and raised her other paw, doing it again on the other cheek. Despite the softness of the gesture itself, the intention was clear. 

"Why are you doing this?"

"Meow!" 

He saw her deep blue eyes flash angrily before she turned her back to him and elegantly sat on the floor between his crossed legs. 

"I…"

"Meow!"

Spy sighed. He knew that what he had said hurt the man he yearned to feel with him. He had gone to his van and raised his knuckles to the door but couldn't possibly knock. What would he then say? 

"Meeeeow!"

Perle stopped licking her paw and angrily answered his thoughts. 

"Et merde…!"

Spy jumped to his feet and opened the door. He walked decidedly to the van again and without thinking it over, he gave a short knock. 

"Bugger off."

"Non."

Sniper's eyes opened wide and he raised his head off his pillow. He had laid down there ever since Spy had uttered those words that offended him beyond what he could withstand. From any other man, it wouldn't have counted at all. They could have insulted him in whatever way they saw fit and he would answer back, make them regret their words. 

But Spy…? _ His Spy? _

The Australian slipped out of bed and opened his door. He saw the Frenchman's sorry eyes. 

"What?" He asked. 

"I… I apologise. I shouldn't have said that. I…"

"You're a mongrel."

Spy lowered his eyes.

"Oui, a sorry one."

The Frenchman stepped forward to hug Sniper but the Australian took a step back.

"Sniper…?"

He shook his head.

"But I apologised."

"And I-!" Sniper stopped his shout half way through. "Come in." 

Spy stepped inside the van and Sniper looked left and right before shutting the door. 

"What did you say again?"

"I apologised."

Sniper shook his head and took Spy by his collar.

"And I love you, alroight?!"

"Bushman! Let go of me!" Spy tried to twist and turn to free himself from his furious lover.

"No, you bastard! I love you, I don't just  _ like  _ you, I bloody want you, all the time, I'm thinkin' about you always. And you?! You-!"

"Meeeeow?!" 

Both stopped sharp and looked next to them on the kitchen top. Perle hissed and all her hair went spiky. 

"What are  _ you _ doing here?" Spy asked. 

Sniper released him and got closer to the cat. 

"Go back home, pretty cat. This is between him and me-oof, oi!" 

Perle slapped him with her paw.

"I'm glad she doesn't do that just to me." Spy said. 

"You were supposed to do that just to him, not to me!"

"What?!" The Frenchman asked. 

"Argh… I guess I need to tell you now… I taught her a few things."

"You taught her to  _ slap me?!" _

"Yeah, to drill some sense in that bloody head of yours! She never did it to me before. Pearl, why did you do that?" 

"Meow…"

Sniper sighed. 

"I guess you're roight."

Spy raised an eyebrow. 

"Look, Spook, it-it just hurts, ok? I thought you had the same feelin's for me as I do for you but eh… I guess I only saw what I wanted to see."

"Non." 

Sniper raised his head to meet the Frenchman's gaze. 

"Non, Sniper. I love you too, I'm just…"

"An idiot."

"A very proud idiot." Spy corrected. "Look, I apologise, I really do. I headed back home and… and I missed you!" The Frenchman turned furious. "A few minutes without you and I was missing you, craving your touch, your feel and you entirely!" 

"Meeeow!!"

Perle made her master shut his mouth instantly with her screech.

"The cat's roight, y'know." The Australian got his hand closer to her, to pet her, but Perle pushed it away. He frowned and did it again and she pushed her head against his hand all the way until it was against Spy's side. 

"Meow." 

"Spook, I just…" 

Spy leaned forward until his head landed under the Australian's chin. He closed his eyes. 

"Me too, Bushman. I love you and can't stand your absence." 

Arms laced and breaths flew from one the other, bearing in them the words that they could not say because of pride, or shyness. 

"But Sniper?"

Spy raised his head and Sniper lowered his.

"Yeah?"

"Stop teaching Perle things like this."

"Yeah well, I never thought she'd use it against me…"

"Actually, now that you mention that, pray continue." The Frenchman smirked. 

"Oh shut up you…"

"Make me…"

Their lips met through their chuckles as their fingers brushed and stroked. Perle looked up at them and licked her paw. 

_ Purrfect. _


	29. Sniper's haircut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hi! 💘 Snipers hair has become pretty long, and Spy cant decide between braiding it or cutting it. -🐑💕"

* * *

The summer was hot but the Australian was used to it. That Sunday, he was wearing an old tanktop and a pair of shorts. He was changing the oil on his campervan when a shadow appeared next to him. 

"Hm… What have we here? A lightly dressed man in the middle of the desert?" 

Sniper smiled as he had recognised the voice whose French accent sung beautifully in his ears. 

"It almost looks like a fantasy. A half-naked man out of petrol in the desert…"

"I'm just changin' the oil, luv'."

"So much for imagination…" 

Spy got closer to his lover and waited for him to finish. He noticed Sniper kept on pushing his hair back behind his ear. The Australian's hair had grown to his shoulder and it was flowing free. 

"What are ya…?"

"I'm braiding your hair. That way it won't fly everywhere."

"Oh…" 

Sniper stopped moving. He felt Spy's fingers through his hair and his brown locks waved. He found it relaxing and closed his eyes. 

"Hmm…" He moaned low and slow.

Spy chuckled. 

"Don't mock me… If ye had long hair and someone to take care of it like that, you'd love it too."

"So you love it?" Spy asked.

"As much as I do you." 

The Frenchman stopped braiding for a split second and bit his lip. He knew his lover to be shy and not very talkative so on the very few occasions that he would signify his love, Spy would fall in his own mind, his whole soul collapsing to shambles. _Melting._ He was melting. 

He smiled and continued braiding.

"Do you…" Sniper started. He frowned. "D'you like my hair being long like that?"

Spy's eyebrow twitched but he understood. Sniper had taken the opportunity of them not facing each other to ask him, so that he _could_ ask, because otherwise the Frenchman's ice blue eyes would be too intimidating.

"I love it. You have magnificent hair. It's wavy, soft and still all brown, not a shred of grey… You are beautiful and your hair is too."

Sniper blushed and smiled.

"Voilà, this is done."

"Thanks, darl'." 

"The pleasure is mine."

"There, now we're good. Remove yer fingers, careful… There!"

With a bang, the Australian shut the bonnet and turned to the Frenchman.

"I'm all yours now, Spook."

"Only now?"

Sniper smiled. 

"Y'know what I meant… Come in…" 

They both hopped in the van. The Australian sat down and his lover took a seat on his lap. Spy wrapped his arms around his lover's neck. 

"Oh, w-what's all this about…?" 

Spy's gaze was more than clear with his half-open, shining and dilated pupils. 

"I am just under your charm." 

"W-well… I uh, alroight."

Spy tilted his head and chuckled. 

"You look adorable, even more so with your braid." 

"A-am I?" 

"Oui."

"I uh, I'm not sure about it, especially in this heat. I sometimes wish it was shorter but eh…"

"You can still have a haircut if you want. I like you hair short too."

"Yeah, well, can't really."

"Why?"

"Usually, I get my mum to do it for me." 

Sniper looked distraught for a fleeting moment. Spy saw it behind his aviator glasses, on his lagoon blue eyes. 

"If you want a haircut, I can do it for you." 

Sniper raised his eyes to his lover. 

"Y-you?"

"Oui. I have been a barber for a few years, as an undercover job. I still have a reputation in that field. But, _mon amour,_ I won't force you. It is only if you want it." 

Sniper's eyes darted left and right. 

"Well, if you know how to do it, uh… Y-yeah, I'd like it. Long hair with this kind of summer is just tirin'." 

"Right. Let me know when you want me to do it. I will just collect a few things from my room and we can start."

"Oh, uh, alroight, whenever you want really, I don't have anything to do." 

Spy gave his lover a malicious look. 

"Let's do it tonight… I have my little idea of how to do this. Also, I want to swim in your hair one last time…"

Sniper's eyebrows moved up and he opened round eyes. The Frenchman smirked as he removed his lover's aviator glasses. And then the tall man felt it. Spy was resting his arms on the Australian's shoulders and he was undoing the braid, their faces a mere inch from each other's. The tension one could seize and the attraction, magnetic. Their eyes went down to the other's lips. Spy pressed his forehead on Sniper's. 

"Why are you undoing my hair?" The Australian whispered. 

Spy smirked and closed his eyes. 

"Shhh… _Arrête de te poser tant de questions…"_

_[Stop asking yourself so many questions.]_

Sniper was about to ask for a translation but a pair of soft lips stopped him and washed his mind blank. He felt his hair flow free and Spy slid his fingers through it, brushing through the wavy locks, going up and massaging the marksman's head slowly.

And it won him a moan from the shy man whose eyebrows sank, giving up their grip to reality. Sniper pulled the Frenchman's hips towards him as he laid back. Spy pushed him with his hands and his lips too and broke the kiss to whisper.

_"I didn't know I could love a man and I didn't know I could love one with long hair, but mon Dieu, how much you make me want you…"_

Sniper's cheeks turned as red as a brick. 

"Ah, I mean-hm!"

The Frenchman didn't let him have any chance to speak… 

About an hour later, Sniper was resting his head on his lover's bare chest. They were lying in bed and the Frenchman was playing with the Aussie's hair. 

"Y'like it, eh?"

"Your hair?"

"Hm."

"Oui, I do… I find it extremely sensual."

"Oh, uh, so… You don't want to cut it?" Sniper asked.

"Non, non, you misunderstood me. I love it either way. When it's long, it feels like an ocean of softness sliding between my fingers, but when you have it short… It makes you look extremely more manly and dangerously attractive…"

Sniper turned hot under the description. Spy was such an intense man, so much more so than himself. He wasn't afraid of letting his emotions show and expressing them, with Sniper only though. On the battlefield, the man would have a heart of stone and a steel mind of focus. But the Australian now knew how romantic and even passionate Spy became under the sheets… 

"It feels colder now. Let us go outside and I can cut your hair, shall we?" 

Sniper raised his eyes.

"Yeah, sure. Uh, thanks." 

"Thank me when the job is done."

They slipped on some clothes and walked out of the van. The sun was finishing to set. 

"Let me bring a few tools, I will be right back. Meanwhile, place two chairs here and wait for me." 

"Alroight." 

A few minutes later the Frenchman came back. 

" _Bien._ I see you have prepared everything."

"Yeah, like you did." 

Spy unrolled his tools on the second chair and pulled his lover's back slightly, his hair flowed beautifully down. He kissed his forehead and asked:

"So, what shall we do?" 

"I, uh, I don't know really. Just cut it nice I guess." 

Spy rolled his eyes with a smile.

"Fine, I will sort it out myself."

"Sorry…"

"Don't apologise. Now, are you comfortable like this, looking up slightly?" 

"Uh, y-yeah I guess."

Spy smiled. 

"Clearly you are not, let me grab a pillow from the van." 

Sniper blushed and a few seconds later the Frenchman came back and put his lover at ease. 

"Fine, now you are comfortable. Shall I proceed?" 

"Sure… Uh, luv'?"

"Oui?"

Sniper was looking up at Spy.

"C-can I uh… Can I have a kiss before you start please?"

The Frenchman gave him a sweet smile. 

"You can for sure and you may too…" 

Their lips met briefly between their grins. 

"Thanks." 

"Now look at the horizon and relax. You may close your eyes if you want." 

"Oh, alroight…" 

The Australian did as he was told and closed his eyes. He heard Spy's lighter and soon after, he could smell the smoke of the menthol cigarettes. Sniper heard the fast and precise clicks of the scissors and felt the comb tracing paths through his hair. Spy frowned to focus on the task at hand and the locks of hair fell on the orange now dark ground of the desert. 

_Click, click, click…_

Sometimes Spy would push Sniper's head to tilt on the left or the right. But soon, he whispered a song to himself, just to fill the silence and the click of the scissors melted away. The only thing Sniper could hear was the suave voice of the menthol smoke. 

_"Quand tu me prends dans tes bras,_

_[When you hold me in your arms,]_

_Tu me parles tout bas,_

_[You whisper very low,]_

_Je vois la vie en rose…"_

_[I see life through rosy glasses]_

It was mellow and soft, just like the Frenchman was outside of work and only for the eyes of the man with whom he allowed himself to be vulnerable. 

The clicks of the scissors continued and Sniper felt that his head was tremendously lighter now. 

"Hm… You may open your eyes, I finished." 

The Australian did as he was told and saw the halo of the moonlight illuminating the Frenchman's silhouette. 

"Look here, what do you think?"

Spy held a small mirror in front of Sniper's face.

"Woah… You got a talent for haircuts, luv'... I look good!" 

He turned his face left and right to see the sides better.

"It's even better than when my mum does it."

"Short on the sides and behind and a bit longer at the top with a little tuft at the front. I think it suits your face, your age and your personality." 

"You made me look amazing, I-I can barely recognise myself…!"

Spy dusted off his lover's hair from his shoulders and back.

"You need a good shower now _, mon amour."_

_[my love]_

"D'you… Uh… D'you think I could use _your_ bathroom in the base rather than the common one?" 

"I would love you to." Sniper's face brightened up. " _Especially if I can shower with you."_


	30. Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hallo, how are u doin? Sniper notices Spy's hands: they are notably smaller than Sniper's. They both are a little surprised by that, and Spy gets a little shy about his small hands. Sniper can't help but find them adorable and beautiful. Spy cant help but find Sniper's big hands attractive. And Spy's big hands plus Spy's thin waist, make a great combination. -🐑❤️"

* * *

"Like this?"

"Yeah, you're almost roight… Put yer right shoulder down a bit, yeah, don't tense up like that… Now the rifle's butt's against yer shoulder, you feel it?"

Both Sniper and Spy were sitting on a crate outside, next to Sniper's van. The Australian was sitting behind his lover such that the latter was sitting between his thighs.

"Oui." 

"Good. Careful 'cause when we shoot, the recoil is somethin' else from your small revolver's eh?"

" _Never had any complaints with the size of my revolver before…"_ The voice with the French accent whispered and it took Sniper a second to get the innuendo. 

"Spook…"

"My apologies, go on."

"Roight, so you've got one hand there to support the weight of the butt and pull the trigger, and one to support the barrel. Again, notice how much longer it is from yours."

_"I like a long barrel…"_ The Frenchman purred.

"Spy…" This time the Australian understood what his lover meant very quickly and smiled.

"Pardon!" The Frenchman maliciously answered in his native language, as if he was sorry for his comment.

"Alroight, now look up, this is how you aim. Now unless you aim for a target that's on the bloody moon, the bullet flies fairly straight. See that cactus over there?" 

"You mean the only one we can see for miles?" 

"Y-yeah." Sniper admitted.

"Oui." 

"I want you to shoot it in the middle, ok?" 

"Fine…"

"Alroight, I'm gonna remove my hands and you'll carry the gun on yer own, ready?" 

"Oui." 

Sniper did what he said and saw Spy struggle to maintain the gun up and straight. 

"Your rifle weighs a ton…" 

"Need help to hold it?"

"I wouldn't be against it, Sniper!"

The Australian put his hands below his lover's, just to help him. 

"Better?" 

"Merci…" Spy sighed in relief. 

"Now shoot it."

The Frenchman pulled the trigger and the gunshot split the silent desert.

" _Mon Dieu! Quel recul!"_

"What?"

"The recoil is terrifying! How can you aim straight again after a shot like that?" 

Sniper smiled. 

"I'm just _that good,_ y'know…"

"Well, I knew you were good _with other matters too…"_

Sniper kissed his lover's cheeks. 

"Oui, like this for example. But, _mon amour,_ your rifle is truly heavy to carry."

[My love.]

"Yeah, at the beginning. I'm used to it now."

"Here, you can take it back." 

"Yeah, thanks luv'." 

Sniper put the rifle aside and Spy leaned back against his chest. 

"Sniper?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you for the lesson."

"Thanks for askin'. I uh, I didn't know you were curious about it at all."

"Oh but I am, very much so." 

Sniper's hands went to the Frenchman's slim waist and he shivered. 

"Oh, you alroight?" 

"Oui, the touch of your hands is… _electric."_

Sniper smiled and blushed. 

"Mmh…" He growled and nuzzled in Spy's neck. "Yours are so soft… They're small and delicate, as soft as a sheila's but by God you know how to use them…! Sometimes it's like you're in my head, you know exactly where to put them and what to do with them to just make me forget everythin'! I love them, they're adorable."

Spy raised an eyebrow and smirked proudly. 

"Give me your hand, darl'." 

The Frenchman laced his fingers between his lover's. 

"Yer bloody hands… They're…"

"Very unmanly I'm afraid, especially compared with yours."

Sniper held one of Spy's hand between his. He caressed his fingers slowly, one by one. 

"No, they're a man's hands alroight. You've done so many things with them…"

"Oui, I am quite older than you are." 

"That's not what I mean. Look at the lines in your palm, look at the muscles there…" Sniper flipped the hand to see the back of it. "And your nails, pff, always perfect. That's just you, you're always perfect from yer hair that I've never seen to your toes, you're just… And your hands show it too, they're so soft, I love them." 

"Well, you forgot one crucial detail."

"What?"

"The wrinkles. Look at your hands compared to mine." 

"Love, you see yer wrinkles?"

Spy nodded, still between the Australian's broad shoulders and his thighs. Sniper brushed his skin with his thumb, slowly. 

"I don't want of a _you_ without them. I love them, I love every single one of them. They make you, _you._ Without them, you wouldn't be you."

Sniper was whispering in his lover's ear and the Frenchman closed his eyes against _his_ Australian's chest. 

"But your hands, Sniper. When you hold me with your powerful fingers wrapping around me, I feel so delicate, so fragile. It is almost as though you could break me, where in fact, the warmth and the strength of it make me melt, just like your voice." 

Sniper looked behind him. The van stood between them and the base and no one usually came to see him. 

_Bugger…_

The way the Frenchman talked just got to him powerfully. He wanted to feel him more but what if someone came…? 

_Screw them._

The Australian pulled on Spy's shirt that was tucked in his trousers. 

"Oh?" The surprise escaped the Frenchman's lips. "What are you - oh mon Dieu, please…" 

Spy arched his back and leaned his head back when he felt Sniper's fingers on his naked skin. The Australian nibbled softly at the corner of Spy's mouth, where his skin was naked. The Frenchman turned his head and put his lips on his lover's, his eyebrows frowning as he felt the rough, calloused hands of his lover brushing his sides, his nails lightly scraping the skin. And like a match against the box, the rugged sensation lightly scratching him set fire to his head. The fabric of the mask was set ablaze, consuming Spy's head in the heat of the embrace, the fever of his lover's fingers played with his body like the most delicate instrument; his lips barely able to maintain the kiss. 

"Let's get inside… I need more of ya." The low gravelly voice of Sniper said.

"Woo-!" 

Sniper jumped to his feet and swiftly took the Frenchman in his arms. He wasn't going to lose any precious second.


	31. Spy's birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I got a idea, it's spy's birthday and sniper wants to do something special for spy"

* * *

The day had been beautiful so far and Sniper was satisfied with his performance on the battlefield. He managed to outdo the enemy Spy and dominate his counterpart. 

When the Administrator announced the end of the match, he put his rifle on his back, collected his SMG and kukri, and headed for the respawn room. 

"You did well today, pardner!" Engineer put a hand on the tall man's shoulder. 

"Yeah, thanks. I didn't do too bad."

"Yeah, I saw that. The enemy Sniper didn't stand a chance! And Spy didn't even need to bother him!"

Sniper's eyebrow twitched. 

"Y-yeah. Roight I'll see ya later." 

The Australian went straight for the common bathroom in the base. He needed a shower. That, and a good moment of reflexion. 

He stripped naked and stepped under the shower head. The water was quite cold first which he didn't usually appreciate but it cleansed him inside and out. It felt like it wiped away the fog in his mind and he could see better. 

_Spy._

Usually the enemy Sniper wouldn't stand a chance because of the Frenchman, not because of Sniper's faster reflexes. The Australian rewinded the events of the day. 

Not a single sentry was sapped. Medic and Heavy had taken care of them, übercharge after übercharge… 

Sniper frowned as he washed away the foam of the shampoo and the shower gel. 

Something was unusual about Spy. 

_Oh, bugger…_

He opened wide eyes and his pupils retracted to a dot. 

_I forgot…_

Sniper flew out of the shower, got a change and raced to his van. He jumped in and floored it, heading for the nearest city. 

A few hours later, one man could be found sinking on his armchair, his brow furrowed and a glass of wine in his hand. He was silently staring at the flames dancing in the fireplace. 

_"Quelle vie de merde…"_

_[What a shit life…]_

He drank more of the bitter dark beverage and it stung all its way down his throat. His feet were crossed in front of him and his eyes were riveted on the burning flames. He needed to get closer.

Spy moved out of the armchair to kneel in front of the fireplace. He removed his jacket and vest that he carelessly threw away behind him. But before he tossed his jacket away, he retrieved his cigarette case and opened it. There was only one left. Bah… 

He delicately took it between his index and his thumb and it revealed the picture that he had stuck at the back. 

_"Vie de merde…"_

_[Shit life…]_

He stared at it and it stung sharply. Unlike with the wine, it was nowhere he could point at on his body. Non, the pain he felt was on something that he felt resonate everywhere in him: his forehead, behind his eyes, his teeth, his entire jaw that he clenched hard, his tense shoulders, his stomach tightly knotted, his slightly wobbling knees… 

Spy sighed. He slammed the cigarette case shut and threw it away. It tumbled and each shock between the wooden floor and the metallic box that contained proof of his cowardice sawed his ears and hurt him like a punch in the throat. 

The Frenchman put the last cigarette between his lips and got closer to the flames of the fireplace still. He closed his eyes. Spy didn't care that they burnt his face, devouring the fabric of the mask he wore in shame, for no one else to ever have to see the appearance of a man who had made of his life a theatre play, an act, a joke. The scorching heat like a fire tongue lapped at his face, eating away his skin, like hell and the devil himself lit the cigarette end for him. Spy sucked on the cigarette a few times and satisfied that the deadly vapor scratched where the alcohol had stung a few minutes before, at the back of his throat, he withdrew and sat back. 

The Frenchman smiled at the flames. He knew that when his time came, they would be there for him, to welcome him. He deserved nothing else. He raised his glass of wine to the fireplace and downed more of the bitter liquid.

It was the same sad show every year come that day. It was a day that he regretted his life, regretted his decisions more than the rest of the year.

_Knock, knock._

"Go away!" He shouted as he undid his tie. His throat was burning badly. 

"Spook, it's me." 

_Spook._

The Frenchman opened his eyes wide.

_Merde._

_[Shit.]_

He pulled himself together and put his glass on the floor quickly. In his haste, it tumbled and fell on its side. As Spy stood up, he dropped his tie on the floor and headed to the door, unbuttoning the first two buttons of his shirt. 

"What do you want?" He asked, stuck on one side of the door. 

"J-just let me in, please." 

The Frenchman rolled his eyes up and sighed in an exasperated way. He opened the door, standing behind it. He didn't want any passer-bys to see him that way. 

Sniper entered and the Frenchman slammed the door shut. He spun on his heels and giving his back to his Australian colleague, he asked.

"What is it that you want from me?" 

"Spy, look here." 

Sniper saw the Frenchman's shoulders sink but he turned to face him anyway. 

"Mon Dieu…" The cigarette fell from his lips and bounced on the floor a few times, the ashes flying. Spy's jaw had dropped and his eyes snapped wide.

Sniper removed his hat from his head and was smiling tenderly. 

"Happy birthday, eh." 

Spy's insides melted. The Australian was wearing a suit. _A suit._ A proper one, dark red, with a white shirt, a red bowtie, matching varnished shoes and…

The Frenchman took a step forward and touched the white scarf around Sniper's neck. It refracted the light beautifully and indeed, it was made of silk. 

"W-what have you done that for? Why?" 

"For you. I thought you'd like it maybe… Uh, here, that's for you too. It isn't much but I hope you'll like it. But let's sit first maybe, eh?"

Sniper took his colleague by the hand and dragged him to sit on the sofa. He noticed the jacket, vest and tie on the floor. The metal cigarette case reflected the light from the flames to his eyes and it caught his attention, as did the tumbled glass of wine and the dark puddle next to it. 

All those clues told him the story of the events that had happened before he knocked on the door with the knife symbol. He dismissed it all. Sniper was there now. 

"Go on, open it." 

" _Mais…"_

_[But…]_

"C'mon, now, don't try and make me believe you're shy, eh!"

Spy lowered his head and smiled. He felt ashamed. He had made a fool of himself and the state of his flat spoke louder than words. His fingers fumbled with the wrapping paper until he removed it all.

"How did you know?" 

"I saw you a couple of days ago, you took a cigarette before cloakin' and you seemed pissed off. When I scoped in, I saw you were runnin' out so…"

"You're watching me at work?" Spy asked. 

"No, not like that, you make it sound so bad! Nah, I just try and keep an eye on everyone and that includes ya."

"I see…" Spy raised his eyes and his heart skipped a beat. "Thank you very much for the cigarettes, Sniper. And you got the brand right as well."

"Bloody well hope I did, it took me hours to remember what it was and to find them. Can't find them in any odd shop!"

"Of course not, you know me." Spy leaned his head on his friend's shoulder. 

"Course…" Sniper rested his head on his friend's. "Oh, wait-!" 

He quickly withdrew. 

"Why does yer mask smell like you burnt it?!" 

Spy's eyes snapped wide. 

"Uhm… I…" 

Sniper pulled himself away from his friend. 

"Let's not talk about it, please." Spy pleaded with his fair blue, almost grey eyes. The flames of the fireplace danced in his irises and Sniper saw it. 

"Spook… Is that why you were pissed off today?" 

The Frenchman looked away. 

"Hey, look." Sniper took his friend by his shoulders. "It's me, it's only me, yer good old Bushman." 

"Every year it's the same. It's… It's even harder for me to look at myself in the mirror." 

"I can understand." Sniper answered and Spy raised his eyes to him, intrigued and surprised. "I mean, yer eyes are gorgeous on their own, God only knows what the rest of your face looks like. I'm sure it could kill by just lookin' at it."

Spy's lips parted and Sniper continued.

"I… 'm sure that you're uh… You're beautiful." 

It hit the Frenchman in the chest, hot and soft. He put a hand on his mask and pulled his fake skin up and away. He felt the burnt fabric scraping the surface of his face and his hair got pulled back. He shedded it away like a snake. When it was completely off, he lowered his head and dropped it on the floor. His cinder hair shone in Sniper's eyes like silver. 

Yes, the Frenchman had salt and pepper hair. He was that old, and even more so on that particular day. The Australian's jaw had dropped. He didn't want him to remove his mask, he didn't say it to force him or anything… 

And yet, when Spy raised his eyes to meet with his friend’s, it felt like the Frenchman was naked. Sniper couldn't believe his eyes. He was wrong. Describing Spy as _beautiful_ was the understatement of the century. The man was handsome beyond what Sniper had seen and imagined in his mind. He was irresistible, even with his hair disorganised as it was. His eyes shone differently without the mask. He looked more human, more vulnerable. 

The Australian's breath had stopped. His hand rose to touch that face that was invisible to everyone but him. His fingers got closer to Spy's head and the latter backed off slightly. Sniper stopped. 

"I…" 

No words would match the Australian's thoughts. He just wanted to make sure that such beauty existed, that it was not a construction of his mind, an image that his brain had created, even though he knew it very well. Such charm was not something his wildest thoughts could have dreamt of. 

He pushed his fingers in the air closer. Spy closed his eyes and in a mad instant, a demented second, Sniper's fingers met with the Frenchman's face. He pushed his hair behind his ear slowly, feeling the silver silky locks flow against his curious digits. They dived behind Spy's head and their eyes met. 

"Y-you're… the most handsome man I've ever seen…" Spy could hear Sniper's heartbeat through his words. 

The Australian put his other hand against Spy's cheek and gently stroked. 

"You should wear suits more often." The Frenchman answered. "I can hardly take my eyes off of you." 

"I'd uh… I'd hoped you'd consider it as a gift too." 

"Sniper…" The French accent sung exquisitely in his ears. " _You_ , your presence, it's the best present I could have hoped for. I…"

Sniper's pupils dilated. Their faces were a few inches apart. 

"Look, I don't care what you go through every year, alone for yer birthday. But I'm here now, okay? Please don't hurt yerself like that. I uh… makes me sad." 

Spy nodded, his head still between the Australian's hands who touched every square inch of it. It was real, it was really his face. The man was really that attractive. 

"Merci."

[Thanks.]

"I love you, I… I look at you and… Spy, I-"

The Frenchman pushed himself forward and his lips met with the Australian. Oui his presence was all he needed. He pushed him to lie on the sofa and kissed him as passionately and desperately as he could. Sniper's arms laced him intimately. 

_"I am in love with you too. Thank you so much. You make me feel alive."_

Spy buried his head in Sniper's neck and laid there. The Australian tightened his embrace.


	32. Of balisongs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Now that we've read about Snipes teaching Spy to use his rifle, how about Spy now teaches Snipes how tou use his balisong? Spy doesn't want to teach Snipes because hes sure Sniper is gonna hurt himself with the knife's sharp blade. But Snipes wants to learn anyway! Of course, Snipers hand ends up full of little cuts and he demands Spy for kisses (even tho it was Snipes own fault hurting himself cuz he didnt listen to Spy!) -🐑❤️"

"You can do it with yer eyes closed?!"

Sniper and Spy were sitting on the sofa in the Frenchman's smoking room.

"What?" Spy asked. 

"The tricks with yer knife."

"Oh, that?" The masked man looked in his hand and yes indeed he had been playing with his blade while brushing his lover's hair with his fingers. Sniper was lying on the sofa, using Spy's lap as a pillow. 

"Yeah, that." 

"It's almost a tic at this point. I try to not do it in public. It usually scares people."

"Wonder why…" Sniper answered sarcastically and scoffed. "But yeah, I'm impressed, you made yer blade flip and stuff without lookin'."

Spy smiled.

"I can teach you if you want."

"Really?" 

"Oui, of course. Would you like to?"

"Y-yeah, sure!"

Sniper sat up from his lover's lap in a flash. 

"Fine, give me an instant."

Spy left a kiss on his lover's head before leaving the sofa and disappearing. Sniper smiled under the tender gesture and realised that his lover had left the blade on the sofa… 

The Frenchman had gone to the kitchen. He remembered his younger self learning how to handle a knife. He had started with a kitchen knife, one of the dull ones with a round end. He took two from the drawer and turned to come back to his lover when-

"Hah! Ouch! Bloody hell that hurt! Hm! Bugger, again?! Bloody thing…!"

"What are you doing?" Spy emerged and joined his lover. 

"Well, you left your blade here so I thought I could try a few things and uh…"

Mundy showed his hand to his lover.

"And you cut yourself everywhere… Let me get the first aid…!"

Sniper smiled, a bit embarrassed. A moment later, the Frenchman came back and sat next to his lover. 

"That's what you get for treating a weapon like a toy,  _ mon chéri." _

_ [My darling.] _

"Yeah well… You made it look so easy, I thought I could do it."

Spy put plasters on the cuts here and there. 

"Sorry…" 

"Don't apologise, it's fine. That's how young people your age learn."

"Oh c'mon, I'm not that much younger than you!" 

"Maybe…" Spy had covered all the bruises but one. It was on his lover's index, on the tip. Without thinking, he put his lover's finger in his mouth for an instant, as if it was his own, and opened a new plaster. Sniper blushed beyond his cheeks…

"Uhm… Spook, uh…?"

The Frenchman raised his eyes, his lover’s finger still in his mouth. He raised his eyebrows in a questioning way. 

"Well uh… My finger… I-I mean uh…"

Spy understood that it had quite the effect on his lover. He let his eyelids fall halfway through his eyes and wiggled his eyebrows… 

"Spook-!" 

Sniper's thighs tensed and the Frenchman giggled. He removed the Australian's finger from his mouth and put the plaster where the cut was. 

"There you go."

"Never do that again, Spook."

"What? This…?" Spy took Sniper's finger and was about to put it in his mouth again when the Australian pulled it away. 

"Y-yeah, that…"

"And what would happen if I did  _ that _ again, hm?" He asked with the most smug grin on his lips. 

Spy watched as his lover looked left and and right. He grabbed a cushion from the sofa and put it on his lap before blushing. The Frenchman understood what he was trying to hide and raised an eyebrow. 

"You do realise that _ this _ encourages me, don't you?" Spy snickered.

"Shut up…"

"Fine. Let us come back to the point. Here, take this."

"What? A kitchen knife?"

"Oui."

"Why?"

"Do you wish to train with the real blade again? After the cuts…?"

Sniper lowered his head. 

"Yeah, well… Maybe not just now."

"Good. Now, pretty boy," Sniper raised his eyes and blushed. "Can you throw it in the air, flip it and catch it again, like so?" 

Spy did it and Sniper imitated him. 

"Like that?"

"Oui, do it a couple of times."

Sniper repeated the gesture. He failed a few times but got the hang of it. 

"Now, I will bring another one." 

Spy got up and went to his bedroom. He exited soon. 

"Here, catch."

He threw it to his lover who caught it with ease. 

"Now try and flip it."

"Wait, this is a real blade…?" Sniper looked at it keenly. "Looks old too."

"It is my first ever knife."

"Is it?!"

"Oui. It is almost as old as I am, and aged like me, not very well that is." 

"Quit yer nonsense. You're gorgeous and you know it." 

"Well, if that cushion is still on your lap, I guess it is for a reason…" Spy wiggled his eyebrows. 

"Spook…"

"Fine, fine. So yes, try and flip that blade."

"Won't it open up and hurt?"

"Non, I locked it shut."

"Wait, you can lock these things?" 

"On beginners' models, oui."

"Alroight… Now let me try…" 

Sniper threw it in the air a few times before he flipped it and caught it back. 

"Ha! Got it!"

"Good, now do it a few more times. See, the weight of the balisong is very different from a kitchen knife but it is useful to understand the trick in itself. Look at you, you're getting good at this….!"

"Is this how you become a spy? You flip a knife a few times and boom! Next day you swing a revolver and backstab people!" Sniper said, triumphant. 

"It takes quite a bit more than that to become a spy,  _ mon amour." _

"What am I missin'? Alroight, the suit maybe, but that's it, innit?" 

Spy snickered and shook his head. He took his blade and played with it, his eyes never leaving the Australian.

"Yeah, well, clearly you're uh… well, you're better…!"

Spy moved to straddle his lover's lap, still playing with his balisong. 

"Indeed I am. But you're not too bad with your blade." The Frenchman answered. 

"Oh, I can barely flip it." 

Spy giggled. 

“I'm not talking about my old one.”

"Which one then?" Sniper asked, confused.

"The one you are poking me with right now."

"I'm not pokin' you with - oh my God!" 

Spy was wiggling his eyebrows. To sit on his lover's lap, he had removed the cushion that was there...


	33. Quarelling, or not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Teasing level 9000: no one knows why, but spy and sniper are angry at each other and to get revenge, they both tease the other in front of their teammates to make him feel embarrassed, ie: if spy is having a conversation with medic, sniper will pass by and kiss him loudly, and then walk away so everybody can see spys flustered face. Of course spy will seek his revenge. When sniper is talking with the teammates, spy will walk to him and slap his ass, and sniper will blush like crazy. "

"Oh hey Snipes… Oh-uh, why the long face?"

Sniper had entered the kitchen and found Scout drinking some soda while Engie and Pyro were preparing dinner. 

"Mmh…" The tall man grumbled. 

"Got in a fight with fancypants? Oh, speak of the devil…"

"Gentlemen." 

The Frenchman entered and went for his cupboard to retrieve a few things. He didn't forget to let his eyes rest on his Australian lover in the most disdainful way. Scout's eyes went to Sniper again and saw him frown intensely. The tall man pushed his chair back and stood up. 

"What brings you here,  _ darlin'?" _

The mercenaries froze. It was a secret to no one that Sniper and Spy had a  _ special  _ relationship. But they were both very prude about it so hearing Sniper call Spy  _ 'darling' _ was a shock to everyone. 

Sniper knew that Spy was following him just to piss him off that much more but there was no way on Earth the Australian would let him do without resisting.

The man in the suit turned and, seemingly unfazed, he answered. 

"My longing for you,  _ mon amour _ ."

Sniper's ears went hot and the blush on his face was intense. Engie, Pyro and Scout were paralysed with embarrassment. 

"I will no doubt see you for dinner,  _ pretty face."  _ Spy added, overdoing the romance, before heading for the kitchen door again.

Sniper didn't want to let him have the last word so to top it up, he grabbed his lover by his waist as he walked past him and pulled him closer strongly. Spy was taken aback and tried to free himself but too late. The Australian had put his lips on his and parted with a loud lapping noise. 

Scout's breath had cut, Engie's jaw dropped and Pyro giggled…

"Yeah, I'll see ya for dinner,  _ darl'." _

Spy frowned even more and left the kitchen as angry as a storm. When they heard the kitchen door shut again, the mercenaries' shoulders sank and silence fell in the room. 

"You guys have a very weird way to fight…" Scout said and Sniper ignored him.

A bit later during dinner, the atmosphere was as joyful as ever. The team shared what Engie and Pyro had cooked with enthusiasm and complimented both Chefs for their efforts. 

At the other end of the table though, Sniper and Spy were sat as usual, facing each other and when they would usually share tender gazes with their cheeks turning pink, this time, it was more of a furious staring contest…

When the food was eaten and appreciated came the time for washing the dishes. 

"Whose turn is it today?" Medic asked. 

"Snipe's!" Scout answered and the Australian collected everyone's plates and cutlery before putting them in the sink to deal with them. Everyone's, apart from Spy's of course as the last thing the Australian wanted was to make life easier for the man in the suit. 

The mercenaries were still sat at the table, chatting amongst themselves when the Frenchman pushed his chair back and stood up. All the eyes in the room followed him, apart from Sniper who was busy with the dishes and giving his back to the table. 

Spy walked to him with his plate, cutlery and glass. He put them on the counter next to the Australian and slapped him in a very intimate way. Sniper's eyes might have popped out of his head with the shock. All the mercenaries fell silent and Scout spat out his soda. 

"I think you have forgotten something,  _ mon chéri.  _ I hope you will be less careless in bed tonight…" 

[My darling]

_ "For Christ's sake..."  _ Sniper whispered between his clenched teeth. 

Spy smirked. 

"I would have grabbed your irresistible  _ derrière _ but the effect would have been less spectacular." He bluntly answered. "Or are you asking me to do it? Would would want that perhaps?"

Sniper dropped the dishes and exited the kitchen, heading for his van. He jumped in and slammed the door shut which made the whole thing shake. 

Spy had gone too far. Doing what he did and saying what he said in front of his colleagues was way beyond any limits that the Australian had in his mind. He sat down, not having turned the lights on yet and pondered. 

The worst thing wasn't to be called my love or my darling by Spy in public, no. It wasn't Spy hinting at their intimate life in front of everyone, no. It was the whole of it! And that slap…!

Sniper hid his face in his hands. 

The whole show had simply broken his heart further. He dreamt of a world where he could behave with Spy as he would with a lady. He dreamt that he could walk around, holding Spy's hand, telling him sweet nothings here and there, in his ear, just to see the Frenchman's cheek turn pink and his irresistible smile…

Sniper bit his lip. He felt defeated. No, he would never be able to do that and now that he was sitting alone in the darkness of his narrow van, he missed the Frenchman. His presence, his voice, his touch, his warmth and oh Lord his lips… 

The Australian remembered how he had grabbed his wait and kissed him. The truth was that he had really wanted to kiss him. It wasn't just to answer back to him. But that was the curse of falling in love. One forgives too easily and Sniper was no different. He craved his lover even while being angry at him. 

_ Knock, knock.  _

"Get lost!" He answered. 

"Non." 

Sniper's eyes snapped wide and he went to open the door. 

"What?" He asked. "What d'you want? Wanna take me back to the base and humiliate me more in front of the others, hm?" 

Spy rolled his eyes and pushed his lover to enter the van. Sniper slammed the door shut. 

"What will it be then? Gropin' me again in front of everyone? Callin' me darling and  _ mon amour  _ again, hm?"

Spy faced his lover, his arms crossed on his chest. 

"May I speak now?" 

"Yeah." 

"I miss you." 

Sniper frowned under the surprise. 

"You what?" 

"You heard me. I miss you. I do apologise for what I did. It was childish and I was only driven by blind rage. I shouldn't have done any of that. You don't deserve that I treat you that way."

Spy sighed. It was hard for his ego to apologise.

"It-it's alroight… I uh… I miss you too, bugger! I don't understand!"

"What?" 

"I love you so much that you can't piss me off. I just end up here alone and thinkin' about you, about what we could be doin' if you were with me. All this time you're not here and it feels like…"

Spy closed the gap with his lover and splayed his hands on Sniper's chest, looking up in his eyes. 

"It feels like time that you are wasting, time that you are burning away and that no one will give you back, time that you are  _ losing." _

Sniper bent his head down and pressed his forehead on his lover's. 

"Yes… Exactly…" 

His hands slid on Spy's back and gently slipped into the back pockets of the Frenchman's trousers. He closed his eyes and frowned, grabbing what his hands now held in their palms.

"I… I'm sorry, I just…" 

"I feel the same way." Spy exhaled and rolled his eyes before closing them under the touch of his lover. "I can't be furious after you. I miss you and I love you, Mundy." 

"So do I… And what you said… I mean…"

"Everything I said to you held an important part of truth. Oui, my longing for you made me follow you and your face is not just pretty, I look at it and it beguiles me, my knees are weak…" 

Mundy gulped down his dry throat.

"And oui, I hope you will be less careless with me tonight." 

Sniper could hardly resist anymore. His grasp on Spy's backside tightened and he pulled him in to kiss the lips that his had been burning for. As he did so, Spy moaned under it all and removed his gloves. He slid his hands on his lover's face and pushed himself against his lover. 

"Shall we continue in my room?" He asked. 

"I… I can't…" Sniper shamefully answered and wrapped his arms around himself.

"Why?" 

The Australian looked down at the top of his trousers. 

"Someone might see me…" 

Spy's eyelids fell halfway through his eyes. 

"Don't tell me you have been  _ in this state _ since-?"

"Yeah, yeah I have. That's why I left the kitchen so fast…"

The Frenchman smirked. 

"I didn't know you liked it." 

"Well, neither did I. I think I was just missing you too much…"

Spy laughed evilly. 

"Oh well, then I guess I shall do with this narrow van."

"S-sorry, I know you don't like it…"

Spy pushed his lover gently for him to sit on the couch and he straddled his thighs. 

"Take it as a chance, an opportunity." The man in the mask answered. "Prove me wrong. Show me that we can get some good time in your van and I might change my mind, who knows?" 

In the dim light of the night, Sniper saw Spy's eyes shimmer. 

"Oh, no, I won't make you change yer mind."

"Ah?"

"I'll make you  _ lose it." _

Sniper took his lover by his lips and slid his hands back where they were but this time, they slipped on the Frenchman's bare skin.


	34. Inversion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Sniperspy.... But if their jobs were swapped...
> 
> An aussie spy and a french sniper. "

“Oi! Snoipah, maybe it’d be time for you to hit a shot, eh?”

“Stupid Bushman, I would if you could take care of your counterpart properly!”

The Australian spy sighed. 

“Bloody hell, I’m doing what I can, y’know.”

The French sniper rolled his eyes and scoped again.

“Or maybe you need to check your mask, hm? Maybe you put it the wrong way around when you woke up today and that’s why you can’t see anything,  _ Monsieur le Professionnel _ ?” The French accent mocked.

[Mister Professional]

“Christ, Snoipah, alroight…”

The lips of the man in a suit holding the sniper rifle pursed in a smile. They were talking through their earpieces. One was comfortably sat on a crate, on his usual pillow, aiming through the window. As usual, he had a mug of coffee next to him and would sip it from time to time, as arrogantly as he could, his little finger up on the handle. The rest of the team could hear them but they had gotten used to the banter between the two and had learnt to ignore it. 

“Sentry at the front!” Scout shouted.

“Doktor, do you have a charge?” Heavy asked.

“Nein, not yet… Spy, can you sap it maybe?”

“On it!” The silhouette of the tall man vanished in thin air and approached the enemy.

Sniper kept an eye on his barely visible colleague. Had anyone else looked through the scope, they wouldn't see a thing. And yet, the Frenchman knew exactly where his Australian colleague was.

Some call it the eyes of the heart…

Spy decloaked and, disguised as the enemy Pyro, he slammed a sapper on the sentry. He took his blade out and was about to plant it between the Engineer's shoulder blades but the short man turned to face him and cocked his shotgun, a vicious look on his face. 

The first shot made his disguise fade. 

_ Bloody hell…! _

The Australian shut his eyes. He knew that he was done for. 

_ BOOM-! _

A shot pierced through the air and flew through the Texan's skull, a red mist scintillating in the air like deadly confetti. Spy didn't take the time to think. He cloaked and darted away. 

Later that day, Sniper exited his shower with a towel wrapped around his waist and another one that he wiped his hair with. 

"Oh, of course, pray make yourself at home." The sarcastic voice with the French accent said. 

His Australian colleague had sneaked in, picking the lock no doubt, and was sitting on the red leather sofa. 

"Well, the door was open so…" Spy puffed on his cigarette. 

"It wasn't." Sniper sat next to him and stole the cigarette off his lips. 

"Also, the lights were on in yer palace of a van so I thought you were invitin' me."

Sniper had one spacious campervan and luxurious too. The walls were bright white with wooden furniture and silk curtains. Only the sofa was bright red and the bed sheets too. On the ceiling, the lights weren't classic, good old bulbs, of course not. It had to be the small spotlights which light could be dimmed at will.

"Uh, I guess I should thank you." The Australian said.

"What for?" 

"You shot that Engineer roight on time to save me. B-but I thought you were in yer nest, facin' the other way?"

"Not when I know that you need cover."

The French Sniper put the cigarette between his lips and removed his lover's mask. He revealed the Aussie's brown locks of hair, shining almost in golden refractions under the van's light.

"Oi, don't you have no shame?" Spy asked.

"Well, look at me, do I look like I do?" The Frenchman threw the towel that he had used to dry his hair away and the Australian looked down at him. His pupils dilated at the expanse of bare skin. 

"Nah, you don't."

"Are you complaining?" 

"Do I sound like it?"

"Non, I just want you to say it." Sniper said. 

"Fine… Turn off the lights first." 

The Frenchman obliged and both were now sitting in the dark. Spy turned to face his lover and slid a hand on his cheek and though his still damp hair. 

_ "Love ya, you fancy bastard." _

_ "So do I, you sneaky fool." _

Lips met in the dark of the night and soon enough, the other towel flew away. 


	35. The phonecall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hiya! ❤️ Spy receives a phone call. Sniper overhears tge conversation, and he didn't like what he heard. Was Spy cheating on him? What the hell was going on? Sniper is angry and sad and he makes everything possible to evade Spy. It all hurts so much, not talking to Spy, not doing well in his job, Spy cheating on him... Its too much and Sniper breaks down. Spy has no idea whats going on and he grows worried with the pass of days. And he decides to get this shit sorted out. "

* * *

"Hey, fancypants, phone for you!"

Spy rose from the sofa where he had been reading a newspaper. He went to the kitchen and took the phone from Scout's hand. The young man left him alone. 

_ "Allô?" _

_ [Hello?] _

Sniper pushed the main door and entered. He was supposed to spend the end of the evening with Spy. He heard the Frenchman's voice coming from the kitchen and was about to join him when…

_ "Oui, ma belle, je sais, je sais..." _

_ [Yes, my beauty, I know, I know…] _

The Australian's jaw dropped. He stayed behind the door and listened. 

_ "Oui, à moi aussi tu me manques, tu sais… Oui… Non, mon travail est loin d'être fini malheureusement. Pardon? Oui, je suis seul. Non, non, je te promets, il n'y a personne d'autre." _

Lucky or  _ unlucky _ for him, Sniper had listened whenever his lover had taught him French and he was now able to understand it to a reasonable level.

_ Yes, I miss you too, you know… Yes… No, I don't know how much longer this job will be. Sorry? Yes, I am alone. No, no, I promise, there is no one else. _

What did that mean? They were supposed to be together, him and Sniper!

The Australian risked it all and took a sneaky glance. He saw his lover facing the wall and lowering his head. He was speaking low and turning his back to the door, hunching his shoulders slightly. Sniper shook his head, a distraught look on his face, and left for his van. He had seen and heard enough. And for his evening with Spy…? 

_ Screw it. _

For the next few days, Sniper avoided the man in the hands of which he had put his heart. Spy noticed it of course and if at first he didn't make a lot of it, it annoyed him quite rapidly. 

When he went to his nest to talk to him after the matches, he found no one. When during dinner he extended his foot to play with Sniper's, he didn't find it. When he looked in his eyes, the Australian would evade his gaze and look the other way. 

And it went on for days until the Frenchman couldn't bear it anymore and decided to sort it out. He walked decidedly to his lover's van and knocked. 

"Who's that?"

"It's me." 

Sniper sighed and after a second he went and opened the door. 

"Yeah?"

"May I come in? I think we need to talk."

"If you say so…" 

Sniper let Spy in and closed the door after him. They sat on the worn out couch. 

"Why are you avoiding me?"

"What?"

"Don't play games with me, Sniper. You are avoiding me and I want to know why." 

"I'm not avoidin' you, what are you talkin' about?" 

"Ah, then my apologies…!" Spy said sarcastically. "I am all relieved and shall kiss you, if you don't mind."

The Frenchman got closer and closer to his lover while the Australian slowly backed off until he couldn't anymore. 

"No." 

Spy stopped. 

"So what is the matter?"

"You love someone else."

The Frenchman froze. 

"What?!"

"I heard you the other day, talking on the phone after dinner. You were talkin' to a sheila, calling her 'my beauty' and tellin' her that you missed her."

"Sniper-"

"Don't you dare try and argue!" The Australian took his colleague by his collar menacingly and his eyes flashed angrily. 

"This is all wrong! Sniper, let me go and I will explain!"

"No! You've lied long enough with me! So that's all I was to you, eh? Someone to warm yer bed with? Someone to kill time with when you were already with someone else?!" 

Sniper was talking with his jaw clenched and his teeth gritted. 

"Mundy, listen-!"

"No! You shut your bloody mouth up! That'll save you some more lies!" The Australian roared.

"Alroight then, let me ask, how many of us are there, hm? If there are two already, there might be three, or four, or maybe you lost count?!"

"May I speak?!" Spy had grown impatient and furious.

"No! I said you keep yer mouth shut and listen to me! Look, if you wanted someone to release some tension, that's yer right. But to make me believe that you had feelin's for me, that's just cruel. But alroight, if that's what you are in the end, fair enough, you played yer act very well and I didn't suspect a thing…"

"Mundy,  _ mon amour-" _

_ [My love] _

"SHUT UP! Don't you dare call me like that, you bastard! The guts you have, I swear…! Even after I confront you with the truth, you still try and act like you… love me…?"

After uttering those two words, Mundy's voice broke. 

"Mundy, if you don't release me now and let me explain, I will make you release me and it will hurt."

The Australian continued, ignoring Spy's warning.

"So everything was a lie, eh? Maybe that's why you never removed yer mask with me. Maybe Lucien isn't even yer name… Who knows?"

_ "J'en ai entendu assez!" _

_ [I have heard enough!] _

Spy headbutted Sniper which distracted him just enough to free himself. He stood off the couch and looked down at his lover who put a hand on his forehead and hissed.

"Now, I will speak whether you allow it or not! Everything you just said was insane. I love you, Mundy, I really do. I don't just spend my nights with whoever I manage to get, or I would never spend a night alone! Non, my feelings for you are more than sincere."

"So who was it on the phone?"

"My goddaughter."

Sniper's eyes snapped wide. 

"You're the godfather to a girl?"

"Oui. Her father used to be the head of a reasonably large drug dealing network that spanned all across the South of France. I was sent to arrest him and if things went pear-shaped, I had to kill him and make it look like an accident. So I did what I was sent for and things went pretty badly but in the end, I had him at gunpoint. He explained that he was expecting a baby with his partner."

"You let him go for that?"

"Not exactly. I asked him when the baby was due. He said in a little less than a month. So I made him an offer. I would let him live to see his baby come to the world. If by that point he had not dropped his business, I would find him and kill him. But if he did, I would let him live."

Sniper's jaw dropped. 

"After a month or so, I knocked on his door. He welcomed me as a friend and showed me the baby. It was a little girl. I asked him what his decision was, although I knew it already. He answered that he wanted to be a good father for her, for  _ Chloé. _ And so I let him be. However, before I went away, he asked me about my job. I told him that I had lied to my superiors and in their eyes, he was dead. That meant that he had to stay put in the eyes of the law now. If he didn't, we would both be in trouble. He understood and asked me to be Chloé's godfather because there wasn't another man on Earth that he would trust his baby with but me."

"Wow… How old is she now?"

"About eight years old. She's adorable and she loves me like an uncle."

"Oh, bloody hell…"

"It's her who was talking to me on the phone the other day. When I was in France, I would visit her and her parents from time to time but it has been years now that I haven't and she's been asking about me apparently. So I sent her a card with a phone number and told her she could call me on the weekends if she missed me too much. The rest you know already."

Spy lit a cigarette and puffed on it. 

"So… So you uh… There's no one else, I mean, no other…?" 

"Lover? Non. There is only you, Mundy. I love you and contrary to what you said, I love you not only with this" He pointed at his trousers zipper. "But also this." He pointed at his heart. "And this." And at his head. 

Sniper got off the couch and got closer to his lover. 

"I'm sorry… I really thought you were with someone else and you were just usin' me." 

"It's fine." Spy put his cigarette on the edge of the sink behind him and slid his hands against the Australian's cheeks. "You didn't know."

"Y-you forgive me?" Sniper asked.

"More than that, I love you."

They both smiled sweetly. 

"Thanks, luv'." 

"On one condition." Spy added.

"Huh?"

_ "Embrasse-moi." _

_ [Kiss me.] _

Sniper put his hands on his lover's waist and pulled him to himself. He kissed him and it was a desperate thing. It had only been a few days but he had missed those lips terribly.


	36. Spy-cy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /!\ NSFW one!  
> This one isn't a request per se, but resulted from a discussion I had with a few friends months ago now. Spy is "treating" his lover, in the middle of a battle...

* * *

The mission had just begun. Sniper was comfortably settled in his nest, a mug of coffee on a crate behind him, gently diffusing the smell of the dark and powerful beverage in the room. The gates for the BLUs opened and the marksman looked through his scope to make a mental note of his enemy's positions. 

_Heavy, Medic… Soldier and Demo there… Pyro chargin' at the front… Sniper in the spawn there?_

BOOM. 

His BLU counterpart fell, a big bullet between his eyes. 

_Pfff… He has no idea what hit him, poor bloke…_

Sniper was about to scope again when the smell of expensive menthol cigarettes tickled his nostrils. 

"Spook, I'm busy…"

"So am I." Replied the voice with the French accent. 

"Don't you have any backs to stab? Or stuff to sap?"

"I might. But that can wait. I am interested in another back right now."

Sniper felt two hands brush his back, sliding upwards and stopping at his shoulders. 

"Fair enough… As long as ya let me work…

"Oh I won't be a nuisance, I promise."

The marksman continued to take his shots at the BLUs, muttering under his breath when his train of thought was broken by the sound of a crate being pushed on the wooden floor. 

"Spook…? What are you doin'?" Asked Sniper without interrupting his scoping. 

"I only seek to make you comfortable… There, sit down."

The Australian obeyed, feeling the Frenchman's hands on his shoulders pushing him down. He was now sat down in front of the window and still continued to work. 

"What are ya-?"

"Sshhhh… Keep on shooting people from far away…"

Sniper felt his lover massage his shoulders. 

"Oh, uh, thanks. That's really nice…"

Spy continued massaging, feeling his lover's shoulders contract when firing. 

"Mh… I had no idea you were good with massages."

"I know my fair share of things, Bushman. After all, I have travelled a lot and I am quite older than you are."

"Yeah, true-ooh…."

Spy let his hands sink on his lover's chest, from behind and he stuck his mouth to the Australian's ear. 

"You have worked well, time for a treat."

"Uh?"

Sniper felt Spy's hand sink lower on his stomach and now on his belt. The Australian unscoped and looked down. He saw the Frenchman unfasten his belt. 

"Mate, I-that'll be hard for me to focus."

"I will make it hard indeed." The Frenchman whispered in Sniper's ear. 

The belt was undone and the Australian watched as his lover pushed the zipper to his trousers down. 

"Shall I keep the gloves?" Spy asked as he slid his fingers directly underneath his lover's boxers. 

"Oooh…"

Sniper exhaled loudly. Spy's fingers kept on just caressing and teasing. 

"S-spy y-you're gonna make me ha-aah"

"And how is that a problem, hm? Ooh, I know… My apologies, I'll proceed in another way."

The Frenchman removed his hands and Sniper looked down. 

"Oh, mate, look what you've done…"

The Frenchman giggled as he turned around to face his lover. He was standing, the Australian was sitting on his crate, his legs open and his masculinity standing at attention. Spy put a finger under Sniper's chin and made him raise his head. He bent down and left a passionate kiss on his lips. 

"Now, let me proceed." 

The Frenchman crouched in front of his lover. 

"What do you wanna do?"

"Sshh, you focus on the battlefield, I take care of the rest."

Sniper watched as his lover sat on his knees and delicately wrapped his finger around his _wanting more_. He stroked it gently from the base to the tip, slowly.

"Uhhh…."

The Australian had scoped but found it hard to keep his rifle straight. After a couple tries, he managed to line up his scope with an enemy. 

BOOM. 

"Uh… S-spy, you're really makin' it hard…"

"Ah, what am I making hard? You or shooting people from far away?" The Frenchman asked, smiling.

Sniper bit his lip.

"Both…"

"I am more than happy, then. But this is not what I came to do."

"Uh?"

Sniper looked down and watched as Spy removed his gloves. He put his fingers back on his lover's begging member. 

"Hsss! Ah, yer fingers are bloody cold!"

"That's because somewhere else is very warm."

Spy let his fingers sink down, underneath. 

"Ooh…"

The Frenchman giggled. 

"I love it when you moan, Mundy."

"It-it feels just great… Ooh-Spy!"

The masked man added his mouth to the play and the marksman couldn't but get harder below his belt… He scoped again and took a shot. 

"Bugger… Bodyshot…"

The Frenchman backed off with mouth just to speak. 

"Oh, is the _professional with standards_ distracted?"

"Shut up!"

Spy laughed and came back to it. He took as much pleasure as he gave. He liked pleasuring his lover. His throaty moans, his trying to breathe and keep steady despite the shivers and tremors everywhere… Spy sucked as much as he licked, listening for moans and long sighs of pleasure. 

"Bugger… Bodyshot again… I-I can't aim straight, luv'..."

"Oh, I do remember you can, _just not from your sniper rifle."_

"Dirty talker…"

"Mmh…"

Spy got _it_ out of his mouth again. 

"Oui but I can clearly feel that you like it, mon amour."

He lapped at it, again and again. Sniper's thighs were contracting hard and Spy felt it. He put a hand on each and caressed them. 

"Calm down…"

"I don't know if I can…"

The Frenchman smirked. He put his tongue at _its_ base, underneath, and licked up lasciviously, spreading his tongue wide. 

"Ooohoohooo Spy…"

The marksman couldn't take it anymore. He dropped the rifle down and as Spy was taking _it_ in his mouth again, Sniper raised his head in pleasure and pushed Spy's head further slowly. 

"Mmh…"

Spy was a discreet man by nature but on the few occasions where he moaned or made his licking or sucking a bit more audible, Sniper felt like a soft punch in his guts. With such a tiny gesture as a flick of the tongue, Spy was toying with his lover's lust. He took it all in his mouth and Sniper released his lover's head, leaning back and grabbing on to the edges of the crate. 

"Mmmh, yeah… Spy…"

The Frenchman moved his mouth back and spent some time on the tip. He sucked at it, licked it, while his naked fingers were busy at the base. Suddenly he let go of it all. 

"S-spy, please… It-it's.. Come back…"

The Australian looked down. 

"Let me have my fun, Bushman. I like to watch you in this particular state."

Sniper stared at his hard member. It was throbbing for more, for the Frenchman to take care of it. The Australian put his hand on it and the Frenchman slapped it quickly.

"Non, non, non! You don't do anything. _I_ take care of everything. Now, let me do something…"

The Frenchman stood up and went behind Sniper's back. The Australian turned to see him. 

"Whot…?"

Spy was undoing his tie. 

"Why are ya-"

"Tsss! Just sit still."

The Australian faced in front of him again and waited. The Frenchman slid his hands on his shoulders and his chest again, all the way down. He left a quick peck on his cheek and whispered. 

"Mmh, someone is leaking…"

"It's all yer fault."

"Look at it, Mundy."

Sniper looked down and indeed, the Frenchman had _that much_ effect on him. 

"Well… it's all 'cause of y-whot's that now?"

The Frenchman put his tie on his lover's eyes and tied it behind his eyes.

"Sshhh… Now, just focus on what matters, will you?"

Mundy blinked behind his lover's satin tie but could not see a thing. He would have to rely on all his other senses. Spy turned and dropped on his knees again. He pulled his lover's trousers down a bit more and came back at it. He sucked it, paying attention to his lover's groans and loud breaths. 

"Ooh yeah… just like that… ah… nnh…"

The Australian bit his lip. 

"My God, Spy…"

The Frenchman licked and made it louder, he sucked and moved his hand a bit faster at the base. 

"Spy… you're gonna… oh… you're gonna make me… ah…"

The Frenchman stopped. 

"No! No please come back… aah… it's-uh… I'm getting close…"

The Frenchman stared at his accomplishment and smirked. 

"Mmh, I like watching you like this. Do you know why?"

"N-nah."

"Because it's the truest way to say 'I love you'. You can't lie about such a primitive, natural reaction."

The Australian smiled despite the blindfold. 

"I-I love ya to bits."

Spy stood up and sat on his lover's lap. He put his lips on his lover's and Mundy quickly reciprocated the kiss, feeling the Frenchman's hand ruffle through his hair. He smiled, and blushed. Spy removed his lips, paying attention to make a loud lapping noise as they parted from his lover's.

"And I love that about you, Spy."

"What?"

"Even in the middle of this, you still find a way to be… uh…"

"Romantic?"

"Yeah, romantic. I love that with ya."

The Frenchman smiled. 

"You are quite the sensitive man, Sniper."

Spy slid his hand down and grabbed his lover, _where it mattered most for the Australian._

"Aah! Oh my-"

He stroked again with one hand and with the other, he pulled his lover's face to kiss him. 

"Mmmh… Spy, I'm getting close again… aah…"

The Frenchman went to his knees and got his mouth back on it. 

"Ooh, S-spy… it's-aah… iI won't be able t-aah, to hold it back much… uhh… much longer…!"

"Don't hold it back, Mundy."

"But I'm gonna-"

" _Give. It. To me."_

Upon hearing those words, the Australian threw his head back and involuntarily, his hips started to thrust forward in sync with the Frenchman's actions.

"Oooh Spy it's-I'm…. AARGH!"

In a flash, the Australian put his hands on Spy's head pulling him to take it all in, and thrusted forward. His hips rolled into the Frenchman's mouth and his abs contracted furiously. He groaned repeatedly, sweat beading from his forehead and his hips contracting in rhythm with the spasms running through his body.

"Oooh…. Lucien… aaargh…"

Mundy threw away the tie that was blocking his view and looked at the Frenchman. 

Lucien smiled and gulped down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.


	37. Scout's birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "💞. Spy feels bad, and feeling bad makes him angry, so yeah, he's angry. He's angry at himself because Scout's birthday is gonna be and Spy still hasn't told him he is Scout's father. Spy wants to tell him, needs to tell him. Sniper notices Spy's strange behavior and knows something's up, so he helps."

* * *

It had been three days now. Three days that the man in the suit had locked himself up in his room and hadn't joined his colleagues for anything. Lunch, dinner, evenings… 

Sniper found it odd and his teammates had asked him about it. 

"D'you know if everythin' is alright with Spah?" 

Engie had taken the Aussie on the side and asked him with a low voice. 

"I… I don't know."

"You had a fight?"

"Nah… I don't know why he'd want to lock himself up."

"Don't you wanna go and check on him?" 

"I… I do, yeah. I miss him." 

Engie smiled sweetly.

"Why don't you go and see'im?"

"I uh, I don't know, maybe he wants to stay alone or somethin'."

Sniper lowered his head.

"Have you tried goin'?" 

"Nah."

"If I were you, I'd give it a try. Worst case scenario, he refuses to see ya."

Sniper raised his eyes and Engineer realised how distraught his friend actually was.

"Oh… You really don't want that, do ya?"

The Aussie shook his head. 

"I'm sure he won't do it. If you've been missin' him that much, surely he must have too."

"I don't know… Hope so but… It's really hard to know what he thinks." 

"Yeah, I mean, it's Spah we're talkin' about so obviously he's a bit of a mystery but I'm sure he'll appreciate it. Maybe he's waitin' for it, who knows?"

"You think so?"

"Yeah, pardner. Go ahead! Better be settled than have a doubt!"

Sniper put his hat back on his head. 

"Roight… I'll give it a shot." 

The tall man headed for the rooms. He walked to the one with the knife symbol on it and knocked. 

"Go away." 

"Uh, Spook, it's me…" 

The Australian heard some muffled noises. Spy was moving in his room, but would he open his door…? 

Silence fell and nothing happened. 

"S-spook?"

"Come in." 

Sniper put a hand on the handle and pushed the door. He quickly slipped in and shut it after him. 

"Sorry to bother you, I really don't mean to disturb or anythin'."

"I know." A voice answered sharply from the sofa. 

Sniper got closer and realised that his lover was sitting, his knees folded on himself and his arms wrapped around himself. 

"I uh… I was worried for you. I'm guessin' something is wrong but I don't know what." The Aussie said, sitting next to his lover and removing the hat off his head. 

Spy sighed.

"Non, you don't know. No one does. It's my problem." 

Sniper put a hand behind his neck and lowered his head. 

"Can I help with it? Whatever  _ it  _ is?" He asked. 

"Unless you can rewind time, non." 

There was a moment of silence before the Australian gathered his courage and answered. 

"For you, I will." 

Spy had been staring at the dancing flames in the fireplace but when the words hit him, he turned to face Sniper. The Aussie looked dead serious. 

"Don't say nonsense." The Frenchman answered. 

"I'm not."

"Ha, well pray show me how you will do it, I am curious." 

Sniper turned to look his lover in the eye. Seldom had Spy seen him that grave. 

"First you tell me what's the matter."

"It will be Scout's birthday in a few days."

Sniper's eyes snapped wide. 

"I want to tell him the truth and find a gift. But of course, I wouldn't be locked up here if I hadn't  _ conceived  _ him such a long time ago."

"That's why you want to rewind time?" Sniper finished and Spy nodded. "Nah, it doesn't add up."

"What?"

"You don't want to rewind time. You want to tell him the truth and behave like a proper father. You finally understood that it's not for you to decide if he'll love you back or not. It's his decision." 

Spy had listened through silently and when Sniper finished, he lowered his head again. His face was as red as it could get and he felt both ashamed and relieved. Sniper was the only one who could read him to such an intimate level. He could understand him so well… 

"Sniper?"

"Yeah?"

"What took you so long?" 

Spy threw himself at his lover and hugged him dearly. 

"Oh… Y-you wanted me to come and see you?"

The Australian asked and felt his lover nod on his shoulder. 

"Y'know, you could have come to me, you could have come to my van or anywhere where you could find me and asked."

Of course Sniper knew that his lover didn't work  _ that way. _ No, he was way too prude to publicly ask for help and even if he had come out of his room and found Sniper alone, he would never had shown any sign of vulnerability. He couldn't, it was way too risky. What if one of his colleagues just saw him? Non. It was Spy's curse: the man was too proud to let it be known that he needed help. 

Sniper wrapped his arms around his lover and leant back on the sofa. He brushed Spy's back, slowly, to comfort him wordlessly. Spy put his head on the Aussie's chest, below his chin, and he could hear his heartbeat there. Sniper was so calm, so peaceful.

Spy took a deep breath and let it all go. 

"Mon amour?" 

[My love?]

"Yeah?"

"Je t'aime."

[I love you.]

Sniper smiled and kissed his lover's head, on the mask. 

"I love you too. But y'know I didn't come earlier because I thought you wanted to stay alone. I thought that if you needed me, even to just stay there and do nothing, you would have asked…" 

"I… I couldn't." 

"I know now. But please Spook, I don't want to harm you in any way, y'know that roight?" 

Spy nodded against his lover's chest. 

"So you know that you can tell me anythin'. I'm not gonna trick you or anything. I… I just love you  _ normally _ . That means I'm ready to help you do whatever you want! D'you understand?" 

Again the Frenchman nodded. The Australian knew he was saying nothing but the obvious. However, for his secretive and mysterious lover,  _ nothing _ was obvious… Spy raised his head and Sniper looked down. The ice drop-like eyes were shining beautifully and the Australian realised how dishevelled his lover was. He hadn't shaved for the past days and a lock of grey hair was sticking out of his mask. 

"Come'ere." 

Sniper pulled his lover and Spy straddled his thighs. They hugged much better that way, but soon the Frenchman broke the hug and put his forehead on his lover's. He closed his eyes. 

The Australian took advantage of his lover visibly calming down to have his way with him. His fingers went to Spy's tie and undid it. He pulled it and it slid against his collar before landing on the sofa. He then opened the two first buttons of Spy's shirt and put his fingers at the edge of his mask. He pulled it up and the Frenchman let him do until the balaclava was out of the way. 

"There, that's much better…"

Sniper brushed his lover's hair back with his fingers, slowly, almost in a massaging way and Spy bent his head back under the touch, his eyes still closed. 

"There you go, sweetheart…" 

Spy felt his insides melt and his eyebrows arched up.

"Spook?" 

He opened his eyes and felt Sniper's rough hands on his cheeks. It must have stung quite badly as he was starting to grow a stubble there. 

"I don't love you just in bed. I love you all the time, ok?"

Spy silently nodded. He felt privileged and ashamed. Sniper had to be the most gentle and sweetest man he had ever met. Yes he was a paid killer, but the love he could give was like none other.

"I…" Spy finally tried to say something back. Sniper had comforted him well enough that he managed to gather the strength he needed to speak. "Thank you and I am sorry to be so incompetent." 

"Hey, no, you're not  _ incompetent _ , that doesn't work. You'd be incompetent if you were a bad spook but you're the best, ok?" 

Spy faintly smiled and nodded, his head still between the Aussie's hands. Sniper was brushing his cheeks with his thumbs. 

"I know it's hard for you to just be brutally honest about what you feel but look around you…" Spy let his eyes roam through the room. "It's just you and me." 

"Oui but I didn't want to add my problems to you." 

"You're not addin' anything. That's why I'm here for, to be the functioning brain when yer heart overtakes you. Also, you said it yerself, you  _ needed _ me and I couldn't guess. So please, next time you do, tell me, in any way possible. Don't let me worry for you and miss you like that, alroight?"

Spy bent forward and put his lips on Sniper's. That's all he needed. Someone to wrap their arms around him strongly, pulling back all the scattered pieces of him and mending him back. And Sniper did exactly that. He pulled the Frenchman from his back to be as close to him as possible while he felt his distraught lover had laced his arms around his neck. 

Sniper let his lover lead. He had needed the kiss, so let him decide how it should go. And it lasted for a long time before he broke it. 

"Feelin' better?"

"Oui, thanks to you. You…"

Spy stared in Sniper's eyes but didn't find the words. He put his lips on his lover's again and again. Each of his kisses meant  _ 'thanks' _ and of course Sniper understood it very well. The rest was whispered, between two kisses, shyly, as if Spy was trying to drown the words. 

_ "Je t'aime… Je t'aime… Comme un fou…" _

_ [I love you… I love you… Like a madman…] _

"Me too, luv'... And I've missed you so much."

Spy finally managed to smile and he hugged Sniper again, resting his chin on his lover's shoulder, right next to his head. 

"I'll help you find something for Scout, alroight? We'll find somethin' nice for him and you'll be the best dad ever, ok?"

Spy's smile widened. 

"To be honest, you are a much better one." 

Sniper blushed and his eyes snapped wide. 

"N-nah, but I don't have kids, they're not really my thing, I mean…"

" _ You lie so poorly… I love that in you. That, and the rest." _ Spy answered, whispering directly in his ear.

They spent their evening and night together. And as if life had stolen the past three days that they could have shared together, they found that they couldn't possibly leave each other's arms. It was ridiculous. Two fully grown men, at their age, with the lines on their faces and some grey in Spy's hair… 

Ah but maybe that's why it had to be so visceral, so strong. At their age, they knew only too well what  _ solitude _ meant and they didn't want it anymore. 

A few days later, Spy found Scout alone in the kitchen. It was his turn for the dishes. 

"May I help?" 

"Oh, uh, sure…?" The young man was hesitant and didn't trust his colleague in a suit. He knew he was sly and malicious, often with ill intent towards him. So he kept his guards up. 

Spy removed his gloves, removed his jacket and undid his cuffs. He rolled his sleeves up and while Scout washed, he rinsed. 

"I am told today is rather special to you, non?" 

"Y-yeah, kinda. How d'you know?" The Bostonian asked, and when he raised his head to meet his colleague's eyes, he found that Spy was smiling. 

"The hell is wrong with you?"

" _ Quoi?" _

_ [What?] _

"You're smiling, but you look weird. Spy, listen if you had any plans to trick me or prank me or-"

"Why must you think this way?"

"Because I know you, you're nothing but problems! And I can see it on your face, you've got somethin' in mind!"

"I just wanted to-"

"Help me with the dishes? Nah, I know you're gonna ask me for somethin' in exchange. So tell me right now!"

Scout brandished a dirty kitchen knife at the taller man who sighed. 

"If I wanted to trick you, you would have already fallen for it by now."

Scout looked furious but he knew that Spy was right. 

"However, there is some truth in what you say. I have a favour to ask you."

"I knew it!"

"Please let me finish before you try to spread some dirt on my suit." 

Scout watched as Spy wiped his hands and went to his jacket. He retrieved a small package and held it out for the young man.

"Happy birthday, Scout." 

The Bostonian put the knife down as his jaw dropped. 

"It's… for me?" 

Spy nodded. 

"I hope you will appreciate it."

The young man wiped his hands and took it. It was wrapped in a glossy paper with a nice ribbon around it. He undid it all and-

"You offered me a framed picture, is that it?"

"Look at it." 

"Pfff…" 

Scout sighed. For an instant he had hoped that Spy would be nice and offer him something he would like.

"Oh, wait… It's… It's my Ma' and Pa', with… Is that me, the baby there?" 

"Oui. I remember that you mother had refused to take a picture so soon. This was the day after you arrived in this world. She had insisted that she didn't look good enough to set that moment into stone. But I argued that it was nonsense and that she always looked magnificent."

Spy chuckled. 

"Before she could argue more, I asked a nurse to take a picture and here it is today, almost thirty years later. It passed from the hands of that man…" Spy pointed at himself on the picture. "To that beautiful baby, who isn't one anymore." 

Scout's eyes darted left and right nervously. He was shaking from his ankles, his wobbling knees, to his hands and the fingers holding the framed picture. 

"Happy birthday,  _ son." _

The young man raised his eyes to the man that he couldn't believe was his father. Spy was smiling.

"Sc-oof!"

And that was the day that Spy learnt how hard Scout could hug him. Thirty odd years too late. The old man reciprocated the hug.

"There is someone you ought to thank, _ Jérémy. _ " 

"Who? What d'you mean?" 

"Without his help, I would have never found the strength."

"You mean Snipes, right?" 

At least he inherited something from his father. The way he could read people. 

Spy didn't even have to nod. The blush on his cheeks was more than an answer.


	38. Alizée

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Aye! I'm sorry this is probably hard to do but oof— Okay, Sniper and Spy decided to quit Mann Co and make their own life in Paris, married, they adopted a girl named Alizee, time pass and at 15 years old there was a winter dance which she wanted to invite the boy she liked, but is rejected because the boy she likes (named Tom) already has a girlfriend (named Helen), Sniper and Spy were always at the dance with her and they decide to go home and watch some movies, Happy ending. ♥︎"

“Alizée? Tu es prête ma chérie?”

[Alizée? Are you ready sweetie?]

The Frenchman asked from the bottom of the stairs.

“Oui, comin’ Papa!”

“You will be late if you take five more minutes, especially since your father here drives like a snail!”

“Whot?! Me? Drivin’ like a snail? You’re the bloody snail here!”

Lucien put a finger on Mundy’s lips and smirked.

“Language…! You don’t want your Princess to learn those words, non?”

Mundy rolled his eyes and smiled.

“I don’t drive like a snail, but yer dad’s roight! We’ll arrive late!”

“Comin’!” 

The fifteen-year-old girl joined her parents downstairs.

“Hey, look at you, you look gorgeous, Princess!” Mundy said.

“Thanks, Papa helped me choose the dress.”

“Yeah, no doubt about that, I can recognise the taste.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?!”

“Nothin’...!” Mundy winked at his daughter who chuckled. "Alroight, if we're all ready, let's get to the van." 

The Aussie drove them to the place where the winter dance was held. Alizée's school had rented a large venue that some pupils and parents helped prepare for the occasion. 

"What is he called again, your  _ date?"  _ The Frenchman asked, not without a bit of disdain.

"He's called Tom, Lu', follow up, darling…" Mundy answered. 

"Right, this boy  _ Tom _ , be careful around him, hm?"

"I will, don't worry." 

"Don't stray far from adult supervision and if things go wrong, you know what to do, oui?"

"Lu', it's gonna be fine…" Mundy wanted to reassure him.

"How can you know?" Lucien answered. "But oui, ma chérie, you know what to do?"

"Y-yeah but uhm… I didn't take  _ it _ with me…" She answered. 

"She didn't take what?" Mundy asked. 

"Papa wanted me to take one of his old blades…"

"What?!" Mundy exclaimed. 

"Well, do you know any other way to submit someone efficiently?" Lucien answered. 

"Oh c'mon, Lu', that's just madness! You can't give a fifteen-year-old a knife and expect her to be responsible with it!"

"Yes, you can! How old do you think  _ I  _ was when I started wielding my first balisong?!" Lucien answered.

Mundy rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Princess, I'm glad you didn't take it with you. 's not reasonable… But yeah, alroight, I guess there's some truth to what yer dad here says. If anythin' goes wrong, go and find the nearest adult, ok?" 

"Yeah, yeah, I know." 

"Good, now, here's the place I think." 

The street in front of the venue was filled with teenagers in suit and ties or dresses. Parents were there too and one could see the light effects in the room of the venue itself. 

"Roight, there you are Princess."

Lucien got out of the van and let her out. He took a second to look at her. 

"You are growing up beautifully, Alizée. I remember when you were a little girl…" 

"Aw…" The young girl hugged her father dearly. 

"Go and have fun before your father mocks me for my sentimentality." He said, smiling. 

"Too late, Lu', I heard ya!" 

Lucien rolled his eyes and Alizée chuckled. 

" _ Parfait…" _

_ [Perfect…] _

"Go ahead Princess, we'll stay here just to make sure you get inside the room and then we'll drive back home. We'll come back at 10, alroight?"

"Okay, thanks! Have fun too!" 

The young girl joined her friends who were shyly waiting for her on the pavement and Lucien climbed back in the van. 

"Go ahead now." The Frenchman said. 

"What?" 

" _ Oh Lu', such a sentimental old folk ye are…  _ Say it…" 

"Nah, truth is, you're adorable." 

Mundy held his lover's hand. He felt the ring on his finger and even if it had been years now, he still felt slight shivers whenever he got to touch that golden ring.

Lucien leaned in until his head was on his lover's shoulder. 

"D'you see her still?" 

"Oui. She entered the room a few seconds ago." 

"Roight. Shall we go back?" 

"Give it a minute or two, please." Lucien asked.

"Sure."

Silence fell in the van and both men watched the street empty of the teenagers and parents walk away. 

"Mundy?" 

"Hm?" 

"I still cannot believe that we are raising a girl together."

"Neither am I. But we are, eh…?" 

"Oui, we are." 

"Also, you're so worried for her."

"Of course I am. She is our daughter. Even if she isn't the biological product of you and me, she is our heart and soul anyway."

"Yeah, I know. It's just that I wouldn't have expected you to be so… protective of her."

"Is it a bad thing?" 

"Nah, of course not. And I find it… Well, I mean, it's  _ nice." _

_ "Nice?"  _ Lucien repeated. 

"Well, y'know, I'm wonderin'."

"About what?"

"If you're that protective of her, I guess you're quite the same for me, roight?" 

Lucien smiled. 

"Of course. Need I remind you that I literally killed people to protect you?" 

Mundy chuckled. 

"Yeah, it's true." 

"But you are right. I love you in such a way that I cannot even think of a day without you." 

"Hm… Thanks, luv'. I love ya too." 

Mundy turned to kiss Lucien's head. 

"You're all about feelin's and romance. You got me to like it too." 

Lucien raised his head and their lips met. Mundy melted on his seat. The Frenchman smiled when their lips parted. 

"Is the hunter softening?" He cheekily asked. 

"Looks like it, and it's all your bloody fault." 

"Language…"

"Alizée isn't here."

"Non, but I am."

"Ah, sorry luv', I didn't want to expose yer delicate ears to such strong words…!" Mundy mocked. 

"I accept your apologies only if you make it up to me, somehow." 

"Oh, someone thinks they can make me do what they want, eh?"

"Am I wrong?"

"Nah, you're very right…" 

Their lips met again briefly. 

"And if we were at home on our own, I'd gladly show you that you can…"

"Ooh…" The Frenchman purred. "I cannot wait." He looked in the direction of the venue. "Wait, that's Alizée…! What is she doing outside?" 

Before Mundy could answer anything, Lucien was out of the van, walking to meet his daughter. She was leaning on the wall of the main entrance of the room and had sunk down to sit there. 

"Alizée ma chérie, why are you outside?" 

"Huh?!" She gasped. "Wait, you aren't home?" 

"Non, we were just chatting with your father. What is the matter?" 

"It's Tom…" She sadly answered. 

"Did he do anything inappropriate?" Lucien started rolling up his sleeves. 

"No…" She answered.

"Don't jump at the kid's throat, luv'." Mundy had joined them and put a hand on his husband's shoulder to stop him. The Australian crouched down and helped his daughter up. 

"So what's wrong?"

"He lied to me. He already has a girlfriend and of course he's dancing with her and not with me…" 

" _ L'enfoiré…" _

_ [The son of a…] _

"Language…" Mundy cheekily said. "Isn't there anyone else who can dance with you?" 

"No… And in any case, I don't want it. I want to go back home…" She answered and started walking to the van. 

Lucien and Mundy looked at each other before catching up with her. The Aussie put his hand on her shoulder while Lucien held her hand. 

"I'm sorry, papa." 

"What for?" Lucien asked. 

"No, I mean you taught me how to dance for so long and it's all useless now…"

"Don't say that, it's not useless. You know what? It is better that way. I did not like this Tom." 

"Lu'..."

"Non, it's true, I had a bad feeling about him." 

"How on Earth could you have a bad feeling about someone you haven't even met?" 

"I just felt it!" Lucien answered. "I have the nose for this." 

They all entered the van. 

"You have what now?" 

"Isn't that an expression in English too? To have the nose for this or for that means that you can smell something will happen."

"Princess, can you tell yer dad there that not all French expressions translate into English…?"

Alizée turned to Lucien.

"Papa…"

"Oh come one, Mundy, you understood what I meant! Alizée, tell you father please that if he doesn't stop mocking my English, I shall remind him how poor his French is, despite his having lived in France for years now."

Alizée turned to Mundy now. 

"Dad…"

"Roight, roight…"

The streets were mostly empty at night and the journey back was quick. 

"Alroight, here we are." 

Alizée seemed distraught still. She was dragging her feet on the floor even as she climbed the stairs up. She pushed her bedroom door and let herself collapse on the bed, her face sinking in the duvet. A few moments later, there was a knock on the door. 

"Hm?" She growled. 

"You groan like your father when he is annoyed." Lucien said as he walked in. 

Alizée sat on her bed and her father sat next to her. 

"I understand what you must feel,  _ ma chérie.  _ But don't think too much about it. You will have other opportunities to dance and have your moment with a boy that you like." 

"Yeah, you're right but… But I'm here while they're all dancing and having fun."

"Trust me, it doesn't change much in your life. Don't get me wrong, I would have loved you to go and enjoy yourself there. But maybe it's better this way. Who needs boys anyway, hm?" 

She looked up at him and his smile made her grin. 

"Yeah well, comin' from you, that's quite bold." She answered and he chuckled. 

"Non, no one needs boys. I need a man, and you will too, when the right time comes. You are still so very young…" 

"Hm…"

She leaned on her side and let her head rest on her father's chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. 

"Can you help me get out of my dress, please?" 

He kissed her head. 

"But of course, give me your back." 

"Wait, before that…"

"Oui?" 

"I love you Papa."

Lucien softened and hugged her tighter. 

"We love you too, and want nothing but you to be happy. It makes us sad too to see you like that, you know? But don't dwell on it too much. We will have fun between ourselves tonight, alright?"

She nodded against his chest. 

"Merci." She said before she gave her father her back and he opened the zip there.

[Thanks.]

"There you go. I'll be downstairs with your father. Join us when you get your change, alright?" 

"Oui Papa." 

He kissed her head again and left the room, closing the door after him. Downstairs, both men were on the sofa, waiting for their daughter. 

"How did it go?" Mundy asked. 

"Better but still a bit bitter." Lucien answered. "She's getting a change and will be with us soon." 

"Good. You cold?" 

"A bit." 

The Australian took the nearby blanket and as his lover laid on him, he covered him. 

"Hmm… Much better now,  _ mon amour. _ " 

[My love.]

"Glad for you." He rested his head on his lover's.

They heard the steps of the stairs creak and both looked behind them. 

"There you are!" Mundy said. 

Lucien moved away from the Aussie and the girl sat between them. 

"Look what I made for you…" Mundy revealed a big bowl of popcorn. 

"Oh… Thanks Dad." She kissed his cheek.

"And I am told that there is this ridiculous action movie that you wanted to go and see on the TV tonight." Lucien added as he switched the screen on. 

"It's not ridiculous, it's just to relax, Lu'..." 

"Whatever you want to call it." 

"Shush, it's starting." Mundy said. 

"Don't shush me!" 

"Papa,  _ s'il te plaît…?" _

_ [Dad, please…?] _

"Oui, ma chérie."

[Yes, sweetie.]

Mundy put the bowl away just to throw the blanket on all three of them. Immediately after he put it back on their lap, both Lucien and Alizée dug in. 

The Frenchman took a handful of popcorn and before he tasted it himself he fed some to Mundy. 

_ "Thanks, luv'."  _ The Aussie whispered and his husband winked at him. 

"Dad? Papa?" 

Both looked down at their daughter. 

"I love you guys, you're the best." 

They exchanged a sweet smile. 

"Merci, Mundy isn't too bad I guess."

"Oi…!"

"Shhh…! The action's starting!" Alizée said and didn't see Lucien mockingly wiggle his eyebrows at Mundy. 

The Australian would take his revenge,  _ later. _


	39. Spy's little illness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I read that you take requests so here's one: What if Spy get's injured/or sick and hides it from everyone, but Sniper know something is wrong with him. It kinda end in that Spy faints in Snipers arms one night when he can't take it anymore and Sniper takes care of him."

Spy shut the door to his suite and sighed. Finally, some peace and quiet… 

He headed to the bathroom and on his way, he undid his tie and removed his jacket. He finished stripping naked in front of the shower and stepped in. He needed cold water, a lot of it. 

Spy stayed under the shower head much longer than was necessary. His insides burnt. His head was way too full of things and it felt like it was boiling… On his brow and along his skin everywhere, the Frenchman could feel himself sweating despite the cold water of the shower. 

His lips were parted and he breathed with great difficulty, and he knew all too well where all that came from… 

Spy looked down to his right shoulder and upper chest. There was a burn mark that dated from even before his time in Mann Co. And on every hot summer day, it was the same torment: the pain would wake up there and make him suffer without him being able to do anything about it. No amount of hydrating cream or anything would do. 

It had been more than half an hour but the Frenchman was still in his shower and wouldn't see himself anywhere else in his flat. Ah, his suite… It had to be facing the South such that it was hit by the sun for most of the day, heating his entire place. 

Besides, he had to find a compromise. His shoulder and chest were begging for ice-cold water whereas the rest of his body was asking for a few more degrees. He clenched his teeth and pushed the tap towards colder temperatures for a while. 

_ "Aaargh…"  _

Spy screwed his eyes shut and hissed. Tears came to his eyes, not because of the cold of the water but at his own misery. Each and every summer it was the same. He thought he would get used to it, but to no avail. 

The Frenchman now pushed the tap such that the water was slightly warmer. He gave his back to the shower head and lowered his head. He tried to place himself such that the water would drip down his back without getting too close to the zone that now burnt again. 

_ "Merde… Aargh…" _

_ [Shit… Aargh…] _

He quickly opened his eyes and saw the water dripping from his hair, his nose and his chin. But soon the burning sensation was too much to stand and he started sweating again. The sweat didn't help in all honesty, it ached even more and even scratched on his burn mark where the skin had never completely healed up fully. It was unbearable. He pushed the tap for even colder water and turned to face the shower head. 

It was freezing but God how relieving it was. Spy stayed as long as his body possibly could stand under the ice shower. It hurt his body but it was such a delight for his burn. He let the water cool him down until, he didn't realise it, his lips started to turn bluish. 

The Frenchman stopped the shower and exited it. He dried his hair with a towel but didn't touch his body, slipping only a simple bathrobe on it before going to the living room and sitting down on the sofa. 

He opened his bathrobe and let his naked skin slowly dry with just the heat in his place.

_ Knock, knock. _

The sound on the wooden door startled him and Spy jumped off the sofa, closing his bathrobe and putting a new balaclava on. 

"Who is this?" 

"It's me, Spook." 

The Frenchman sighed in relief. He opened his door but hid himself behind it. Sniper entered and Spy quickly shut the door after him. 

"Oh, I'm-I'm sorry, I can come back later!"

The Aussie turned his back and hid his face as soon as he realised that his lover was only wearing a bathrobe. He knew how prude Spy had been. If at first Sniper thought that it was only true for his lover's face that he hid behind a balaclava, he quickly learned that the Frenchman was very protective of his nakedness. Sniper wasn't like that himself, but he respected it. 

To his surprise, he felt two arms lace around him from behind. 

"I'm glad you came to see me." Spy purred. 

Sniper kept his hands on his eyes and answered. 

"I uh… I can wait here for you to dress up, eh. I'll come back in a few minutes-oh…"

The Frenchman's hands now slithered on his lover's chest from behind and he moaned softly, it almost sounded like a feline's purr. 

"Non… Stay here…" 

"Someone's cuddly today." 

"I just missed you… I'm…" Spy coughed a few times. 

"You alroight?" 

"O-oui, my apologies…" 

The truth was that his burn stung badly and he felt feverish all of a sudden. He leaned against his lover a bit as his mind started to spin. He cleared his throat. 

"Ahem… Sniper… Uh…"

"You don't sound alroight, luv'." 

Sniper had hardly had time to turn to his lover that Spy's legs failed. The Frenchman's eyes closed and he fell limply. Lucky for him, his lover's reflexes were excellent and Sniper caught him in his arms. 

"Bloody hell, Spook!" 

He slowly laid his unconscious lover on the ground and loosened the belt of the bathrobe slightly before running to get some water and sugar cubes. He filled a bowl with water and came back, kneeling on the floor next to his lover. Sniper wiped his wet hands over Spy's face repeatedly. 

"Spook…? Spook, wake up, please… Please, wake up and tell me you're alroight…"

He turned the Frenchman on his side and put a hand on his forehead. 

"Bloody hell, you're boilin' hot!"

Sniper got his lover's arms out of his bathrobe but still made sure to cover up his lower body. 

"Holy…" 

As he did so, he uncovered the burn mark. 

"So that's why you never wanted to remove yer shirt even in the most hellish heat… I get it now… Must be why you're boilin' too." 

Sniper poured some water over his hands and massaged them all over Spy's face, his neck, his chest and shoulders. He did it again and again, putting water on his lover's arms repeatedly until finally the Frenchman blinked and slowly opened his eyes. 

"Oh thank God, I was about to get the Doc'..."

"Uh…  _ qu'est-ce que…  _ Sniper?"

[What did…]

"Yeah, it's me, oh, luv', you scared me… Here take this sugar cube and let it melt on yer tongue, nah, don't argue, keep yer strength, I'll help you sit up…"

The Aussie went behind his lover and let him lean on himself. 

"Oh mon Dieu…" Spy blinked repeatedly and frowned, trying to collect himself and his thoughts.

[Oh my God…]

His eyes went back to himself and-

"Oh merde!"

He realised that he was half naked but he had no strength to grab the panels of his bathrobe and cover himself more. He tried but Sniper took his hand in his and pushed it away. 

"D-don't tire yerself… I'm uh… I'm sorry I had to unclothe you a bit to freshen you up b-but it's because I had to, I'm sorry…" 

"Bah, it had to happen sooner or later. But I guess you have seen me  _ really _ now. I will understand if you want to stop everything with me."

Sniper's eyebrows jumped. 

"What?" 

"I am a monstrosity, which funnily enough hurts both physically and mentally. This scar that you had the misfortune to lay your eyes on is the reason why I cannot stand any heat. It is also why I fainted. It burns a lot, and my trying to hug you did not help. Not only the proximity of your body heated me up but also the effect you have on me… The last thing I remember before passing out is - uh, nevermind."

Sniper frowned. 

"You probably don't want to see me any longer and I am keeping you here with my nonsense." 

Spy pushed himself to his feet and Sniper stood up too. They faced each other after the Frenchman finished putting his bathrobe back on.

"Thank you for everything, Sniper. I shall not forget the moments we shared. To be honest, and even though it certainly doesn't matter anymore, I just want you to know that my feelings for you were sincere." 

Spy walked to the door and opened it. 

"Farewell." 

The Aussie was so stunned that he didn't answer anything and left the room. He went straight to his van and collapsed on his bed, his mind busy with everything he had heard for the past ten minutes or so. 

What was that all about…? 

He turned on his fan and kept thinking there, while the slightly cooler air tickled his skin. 

"Spy…" 

He didn't want to leave him, he didn't agree with anything that the Frenchman said! 

"Pff…" 

The Aussie sighed and frowned. 

Meanwhile, the Frenchman was lying on his sofa, in the dark. Saying goodbye to a lover always hurt and with Sniper it was only worse. Spy really loved him and he still did. He sighed. 

_ Knock, knock. _

The Frenchman raised a curious eyebrow. He took his balaclava and headed to the door. 

"Go away." 

"No." 

Spy's eyebrows jumped. He recognised the voice of that man. He opened the door and again hid behind it. A man like a storm raged in. 

"Wh-what is wrong with you?!" Spy slammed the door shut and flipped a switch to turn the lights on. 

Sniper slipped straight to the Frenchman's bedroom. 

"Hey! Get out of there! Who told you that you could-?! Oh…"

Spy had joined and stopped sharp. 

"There you go. You should feel better now."

Sniper said and the Frenchman's jaw dropped.

"Sniper, what… what have you done?"

"You're too bloody hot in this bedroom of yours, if not in this entire place of yours, so here's your new best friend, your new  _ fan!" _

The Australian had taken his fan from his campervan and had plugged it in his lover's bedroom.

"Now, you come here…" 

Sniper took Spy from his shoulders and led him to sit down on the bed, in front of the fan. 

"Now we press on this button here and boom! The thing doesn't rotate anymore and just cools down the air in yer direction!" 

"S-sniper…?"

He sat next to his lover and put a hand on his face to make him look into his eyes.

"No, now you shut up and listen. I love you and I'm not ready to leave you. You're not a monstrosity, you're bloody gorgeous. Look, Spook, I have scars too. I mean, I don't have any that's as big as yours but look…"

The Aussie yanked his polo shirt up and away and opened his arms wide, bare-chested next to his lover. 

"What did you do to your chest and shoulder?!" Spy asked. 

"I thought I'd try to make it up and make it look like your scar but uh… I can’t do make up and I don't have any…"

"So you just tattooed yourself with a black biro all over your chest?" 

Spy raised an eyebrow and smiled. 

"Well, I tried, alroight?"

"And it's all written upside down…" The Frenchman added, as he looked at the scribbles with more care. 

"Yeah, well, that's a 2-in-the-mornin' idea fer you, eh. I didn't have much time to prepare…" 

Spy chuckled. 

"Sniper?"

"Yeah, I know it's ridiculous but uh…"

"Sniper?"

"I-I don't wanna leave you though and I was missin' you and-"

"Sniper, I love you." 

The Australian stopped sharp and blushed. 

"W-well, that's uh, that's nice, that's very nice…"

"You do look ridiculous though. Also, I see you tried to write my name there but you got the spelling wrong. Bushman, how long have we been together?!"

"Oi, I was half in the dark and it's two in the bloody morning, I did what I could, alroight? Hey there, what are you…?"

Spy had taken a biro from his night table and started drawing on his lover's chest. 

"Spook, I'm no bloody canvas, stop it, also it tickles a bit, get off…!"

The Frenchman raised his eyes to his lover and wiggled his eyebrows. 

"You will have to make me, Bushman." 

"Is that an invitation?" 

Spy put the biro away and looked up at his lover tenderly. 

"Well, it is indeed two in the morning and we are here on my bed…"

"Also, you're still only wearin' yer bathrobe I see?"

"It is hot in this room, Sniper."

"Not any better with the fan?" 

"Oui, a bit. But no fan can cool down the effect you have on me…" 

The Frenchman laced a lazy arm around his lover's neck and pulled him to lie on top of him on the bed. Their lips met and soon, the rest of their bodies. 

Thank God for the fan, the temperature rose quite fast that night...


	40. The catacombs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> " So I recently watched as above so below movie about the paris catacombs, and the anxiety you can get from that palace is just eughh. So I had this small tought that Sniper and Spy would have to enter those catacombs, it can be a part of a mission/job miss pauling had given them. And Sniper is extremly claustrophobic but doesn't want to show it because he wants to protect his pride and doesn't want to show weakness. As they are sent to the catacombs their light go suddenly out and Sniper freaks the flip out and Spy has to calm his scared companion down ♡"

* * *

"You're goin' with a suit on?!"

"Observant are we, today, hm? Interesting. What will you tell me next? That the sky is blue?"

"Spook…"

The marskman and the masked man were both in the van. 

"You should get a change, your suit's gonna get ruined, mate!"

The Australian was driving of course and it was the middle of the night.

"Non, it will not. Also, you are telling me all this as if it was all new to me. May I remind you that you are standing in _ my  _ territory?"

"Your  _ territory?" _ Sniper repeated. "What are you, now? An animal?" 

Of course, Spy just meant that they were in Paris. They had landed there a few days before, on a mission that the Frenchman was supposed to carry out alone, but it was of course out of the question for him to leave his lover behind. Not only their personal relationship meant that they were inseparable, but their collaboration as colleagues made them even more redoubtable together than the strict sum of their skills.

"You of all people should know." Spy purred to his lover. "If you push my buttons right, I can become one…"

Sniper looked at him and chuckled. The Frenchman had leaned back on his seat and was looking up at him, his heavy-lidded, ice-blue eyes devouring the Aussie. Mundy lightly tapped the tip of his nose.

“Keep your eyes on the road, Monsieur.” Lucien almost whispered.

“Tryin’, gorgeous...”

“You should turn left in two streets.”

“I know, I remember the route.”

“Very good. Do you also remember the name of the street?”

“Uhm… Something about a… A pie or something…”

The Frenchman burst out laughing and caught his breath with the short snorts that his lover couldn’t resist.

“Why’re you laughing? I’m not wrong, am I? Only you frogs could come up with a name of street with “pie” in it!”

The Australian turned and looked up at the street name as Lucien read it.

“It’s  _ Rue Pie VII.” _

“Did you just say  _ Pee ?!” _

“And you insist that you don’t have an obsession with your filthy jars…”

“That’s what you just said!”

“Because that is how you pronounce it! Pie VII was a pope in the end of the eighteenth century and beginning of the nineteenth. Do you pay attention when I teach you how to read French?!”

“Not enough I guess…”

“Indeed.”

“Not my fault, the teacher’s bloody sexy…!”

Spy smiled beyond his ears.

“It is indeed what I am told about him.” He added.

“Show off…!”

“That too, but his favourite student likes it when he shows off.” 

“He’s got a favourite? Doesn’t sound too professional.”

“As if you would complain…!”

The Australian chuckled and parked the van in a dead end.

“Roight, here we are, luv’. You sure you don’t want to change for somethin’ more appropriate?”

“If we weren’t supposed to work, I would, just for you…”

“I’m not meanin’ gettin’ naked.”

“Regrettable.”

Mundy rolled his eyes with a smile.

“Roight, if we’re set then, let’s go. I’ll take the backpack with the stuff.”

“Merci.” 

Mundy opened the door.

“Mon amour?”

[My love?]

The Aussie’s ears pricked up and turned to his lover.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Mundy softened.

“I adore you, you wanker.”

“As if you would complain…!”

Both exited the van.

“What did you say?!”

“Nothing.” The Frenchman played smug and both walked towards the end of the cul-de-sac.

“Roight, here’s our manhole.”

“Our what?!” Lucien exclaimed.

“Manhole!”

“Please tell me this is an English expression that I don’t know and I don’t have to understand it literally…!”

“You silly, look at the floor…!”

Lucien looked down and Mundy crouched. He raised the lid of the manhole and both could see a ladder on the side. 

“Can you get us the torches from the backpack on my back?”

The Frenchman nodded and looked through the bag. 

“Here.” He gave his lover one.

“Thank you, luv’.”

“No problem. A  _ manhole… _ Couldn’t you invent any other word for it?”

Mundy switched the light on and went down the ladder into the sewers, closely followed by his lover.

“You can call it whatever you want, that’s just what it’s called in English.”

“Don’t tell me to call  _ a manhole  _ anything I want, you might regret it, Mundy.”

“Actually yeah, forget that.”

Their voices now echoed in the long and empty underground corridors.

“Now, follow me, mon amour.”

[My love.]

“Yep, right behind you.”

“Lucky me…” The Frenchman purred.

“Lu’...”

Spy continued, ignoring his lover’s comment.

“These sewers will lead us to the church. from there, we go through the crypt and emerge in the catacombs.”

“Yeah.”

“Then, the journey is fairly straight forward until we get the briefcase.”

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” Mundy asked, his rubber boots splashing through the dirty water.

“I am doing this because it is my job. You, because you cannot live without me.”

“Yeah and yeah, but what’s in that briefcase?"

“Something that the Administrator deems valuable enough for us both to step in excrements to retrieve it.”

“Yeah, guess you’re roight.”

“Look, there.” The Frenchman pointed in front of them.

“Is that a gate?”

“Oui, to the church’s crypt.”

“Oh that was fast.”

“Reasonably so, oui. Give me your back please.”

“Gonna backstab me?”

“Don’t sound so worried. Last time I checked, you  _ liked my stabs from behind…” _

“Why does everything you say sound so dirty…?”

Lucien retrieved his cigarette case from the backpack and opened it to find some pins inside.

“Because you have a twisted mind, mon amour.”

“No, I don’t! You’re sayin’ all this!”

The Frenchman went to the black and rusty wrought iron gate and started lockpicking it.

“And you are the one understanding it that way.”

With a click, the gate’s lock yielded and Lucien pushed it open.

“After you, luv’.”

“Thank you.”

Lucien went through first.

“Don’t stare, it’s impolite.” He said but the Aussie's eyes didn't leave the Frenchman's lower back.

“What can I say? You’re just gorgeous.”

Spy smirked.

“I know. Now, follow me.”

Going through the crypt proved almost disappointingly easy, although quite creepy, for both men who soon emerged at another gate.

“Here we are.  _ Les catacombes!” _

Lucien lockpicked it too and both entered the catacombs.

“After you.” The Frenchman bowed and invited his lover through.

“Roight, but don’t stare at my-Lu’!”

Lucien chuckled. 

“What are you complaining about? I did not stare…”

Mundy let his lover go in front of him and let his hand slip in Lucien's back pocket.

“I’ll remember that, wanker.”

“Mmh, by all means.” The Frenchman cooed, smiling under his lover's touch.

They walked along a large tunnel but it turned out that their feet were sinking into more and more water as they progressed. The tunnel was slowly getting more and more deep.

“This place is incredible.” Lucien said, lighting up the walls left and right. “It’s almost as if all the walls are covered with skulls. Unbelievable…”

“Yup, yeah, loads of dead people, charmin’...”

“You see, those tunnels used to be quarries. Until they turned them into city ossuaries at the end of the eighteenth century."

Silence fell, only interrupted by the sound of the water that now reached about their calfs.

"Mundy?”

Spy turned to Sniper behind him.

“Y-yeah?”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, go on, I’m listenin’.”

“Fine. So as I was saying, the authorities decided to turn this place into an impressive ossuary for the city for public health reasons. The tunnels run for dozens and dozens of kilometres, sometimes on three different underground levels!”

“Hm, right…”

The walls weren’t wide enough for both of them to walk side by side so Sniper let Spy walk in front of him to guide him.

“What is remarkable is that to this day, we have not explored all of them. Actually, some believe that, similarly to the oceans, mankind knows more about the surface of the Moon than about the content and the exact layout of these tunnels."

Silence fell again, the water level reached their knees.

"Mundy, are you still following?”

“Yeah, yeah, carry on… Ahem…”

The Frenchman stopped sharp and turned to his lover.

“What is the matter?” He asked.

“What? Nothin’, go ahead, c’mon, we’re not gonna stay here forever are we? Let’s find the briefcase, take it and get the hell back to the surface.”

The Australian took a step forward but his lover blocked his path.

“Something is wrong, I know you. Tell me.”

The Australian sighed.

“I told you. Nothin’s wrong. Now please, can we get goin’?”

And that’s when Lucien noticed it. At no point did his lover look him in the eye. He had always stared down.

“Look at me.”

“What? C’mon Lu’, we’ve lost enough time as it is.”

“We are not losing time when you are behaving so weirdly. I demand to know what is wrong.”

“Bloody hell, I told you, nothin’s wrong!” Mundy’s voice got louder.

“Obviously something is.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You are the most patient man I know, you can stay sitting on the same crate for days on end waiting for your target and yet a few seconds here with me and you cannot bear it. Does his place scare you?”

“No it doesn’t! I’ve seen skulls bigger than that ten times on some beasts, now can we get back to it?”

“Also” The Frenchman continued. “and above your impatience, you are raising your voice against me and that is the first time that I hear you do that. Not to mention the fact that not once have you had the decency to look me in the eye.” 

The Australian sighed.

“Roight, I don’t like this place. There, I said it. Now can we go?”

“You don’t like it but you’re not afraid of it.”

“No, I’m not, now please…?"

Lucien wasn't convinced still. He put his gloved index finger below his lover's chin and pulled it up. 

"Open your eyes,  _ mon amour.  _ Why are they closed?"

"I-I prefer it that way."

"Nonsense…"

Sniper frowned harder and gulped down loudly. 

"Mundy, you know you can tell me anything, non? And you can't lie, not to me. I can see it. Something about this place is strangely getting to you. If it is not the bones, it can't be the water, I know you are an excellent swimmer. So what is it?"

The Aussie grumbled. To help him, Lucien removed a glove and put his naked hand on his cheek. With his eyes still closed, Mundy recognised the familiar touch and leaned his head in the hollow of his lover's hand, a sad smile on his lips. 

"I… I don't like tight spaces…"

"You are claustrophobic?"

The Aussie nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me straight away?"

"Didn't want to be a bother."

"You never are. Is that why you keep your eyes closed? Does that help?"

"Yeah, a bit."

"You knew this place was full of narrow tunnels, why did you follow me?"

"You said it." Mundy answered as he put his hand against Lucien's. "Can't live without you."

The Frenchman softened. 

"If I had known that about you, I wouldn't have dragged you along with me."

"Which is another reason why I didn't want to tell you." Mundy added.

Lucien sighed. 

"You are ridiculously charming, you know that, hm?"

"You're not… Disappointed? Don't wanna mock me for this?" Sniper asked. 

"Non. Why? Did you think I would? Is that why you did not tell me?"

Mundy nodded shamefully.

" _ Mon amour. _ You should know the nature of the feelings I have for you by now. It's far from stress relief, it isn't merely physical. Non, when I declare my feelings to you, it isn't what I have between my legs that speaks. It is my heart first. So non, of course non I will not mock you. " Lucien paused before adding. "I love you."

Mundy opened one eye slightly and immediately, his lover put his hands on his cheeks. One was gloved, the other was naked but both stroked his cheeks tenderly, Lucien's eyes and his whole face looked at the man of his desires so differently from the rest of the people. It always struck Mundy and made him feel special. He was the only one who could see the ice blue eyes melt lovingly.

"I love you too… So bloody much… you're everythin'." The Aussie closed his eyes, bent forward and slightly down, until he kissed the Frenchman. 

Lucien reciprocated of course and savoured his lover's lips like the wild and exotic delicacy they were, until Mundy broke the kiss. 

"Sorry, we're supposed to be workin' and I uh… I won't do that again…" He said, his eyes screwed shut. 

"Oui, the professional with standards seems to have lost his professionalism for a moment here, hm? But I am not complaining. Your softness moves me."

"I'm not soft." Mundy answered. 

"Of course you are." Lucien said and took his hand, sliding his fingers between his lover's before resuming their walk through the water.

"Luv', I kill people, I'm not  _ soft!" _

"Yes you are. But if you want I can make you  _ not soft _ , hm? I do know how and have successfully accomplished it countless times now in the past." Lucien smugly said.

It took a second for the Aussie to understand the innuendo. 

"Not right now. Let's get the briefcase and get out of here. After that, do what you want…"

" _ What I want? _ Really?" Lucien's eyes started shining. 

"Yep, absolutely anythin', ya devil in a suit." 

Lucien chuckled. 

"I shall not forget this promise."

"I know you won't." 

Silence fell and they walked further. The level of the water was going down as both realised that they were walking up on a slope.

"Ah, and open your eyes, mon amour, just for an instant."

Mundy obeyed. The corridor was getting larger and larger. 

"Oh, Lord, yes! Thank God it's gettin' wider now."

"Which means that we are getting close to the location of our beloved briefcase." Lucien added. 

" _ Ahem… beloved briefcase?" _ The Aussie played jealous. 

"Oui, but don't be like this. I won't do  _ whatever I want  _ to the briefcase tonight." Lucien answered. 

"Bloody well hope you won't!... Oh look at this gate now. Are we close to the end?" 

"Oui. Let me lockpick this." 

The padlock fell within a few seconds and they went through. 

"Here it is, Lu'! The briefcase! Oh Lord, it's way past dusty…" The Australian retrieved it and blew the dust away. "And it's super rusty too. How long has it been staying here?" 

"Longer than both our lives it seems. But let us get away. I have plans for tonight and I cannot wait." 

They soon found a ladder and their heads popped up through another manhole. 

"Ah, fresh air finally!" Mundy took deep breaths. 

"Sorry that you had to go through all this… If I had known, I would not have let you follow me."

"Bah, it's alr-hm?!"

Lucien put his index on his lover's lips. The Australian looked around him. The silence was deafening. 

"Hm?" Mundy asked, his mouth still blocked by his lover's finger. 

"I have just realised something..."

"Hm-hmm?"

"It is the first time that I have kissed anyone in catacombs." Lucien said. "And I thought that at my age I would not have first times anymore."

Mundy looked down at his lover and smiled. He pushed his hand away.

"Lots more of first times to come for us I hope." The Aussie said. 

"So do I." Lucien answered and took his lover's hand in his. "Now let us go back to the hotel. I can hardly wait…"

" _ Hardly, hm?" _

"Shush Mundy, or I shall not wait for us to be in the hotel to do what I want!"


	41. Cigs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something with handholding, to thank a friend for reading my shorts :)

“Ah, merde…”   
  
The Frenchman flipped his cigarette case shut. He sighed. It was the end of the day and he would have really appreciated some nicotine… He headed for his room when an idea crossed his mind. Maybe he could ask his colleague for a cigarette? He knew that Sniper smoked too.    
  
Spy looked behind him. He could see all the mercenaries appreciating the late night rest in the spacious living-room. Some of them had their eyes glued on the TV screen, following whatever series had held them in anticipation for the past week. Others were drinking, or playing cards. 

As the Frenchman’s eyes scanned the room, he realised that the Australian was nowhere to be seen. In that case, he must have been in his campervan. Spy gulped down hard as he gathered the courage to turn on his heels and go outside. He hoped his other colleagues were too busy to hear him slip out of the base. It would seem suspicious that the solitary Frenchman went out at such a late hour of the day…

Spy walked to the campervan parked a few meters away from the building and gave a few short knocks. He heard some muffled noises. His colleague was certainly moving inside his narrow dwelling. Shortly, the noise stopped and Sniper opened the door.

“Oh, I do apologise…!”

Spy turned to give his back to his tall colleague. He had opened the door wearing nothing more but a pair of shorts. To be fair, the summer nights were more than warm and more than what the Frenchman could stand. 

“Hey, it’s fine. Need somethin’?”

“It-it is fine. I shall ask you tomorrow, I can wait…”

Spy took a few steps when he felt a firm hand stop him on his shoulder.

“Spook, c’mon, I’m tellin’ you, it’s fine. What d’you need?”

The Frenchman shyly turned to face his colleague but held his head still low.

“I was wondering if you had a cigarette you could spare for me perhaps? I have run out and the next Mann Co. delivery will arrive in a few days.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, wait a sec’.”

The Australian turned and hopped on the back of his van again. Spy raised his eyes. 

_ Mon Dieu… _

He thought. Sniper was tall, that he knew, but his silhouette was now as bare as it could be, or almost so, and the Frenchman realised that his friend had broad shoulders, broader than his no doubt. His skin was quite a bit darker than his own even though he could clearly see the tan lines where his sleeves are usually rolled up and behind his neck.

_ Behind his neck… _

The Australian wasn’t wearing his hat for once and Spy could see his hair better under the light of the van. Brown locks that waved and curled at the end. Despite his appearance of the classic  _ Bushman _ , Sniper seemed to take particular care of his hair, it shone beautifully under the van’s light.

“Ah! Here they are!”

Sniper turned to face his friend again and the Frenchman looked away. Of course, the Aussie saw it but chose to not dwell on it, not now.

“Here you go, help yerself.”

Sniper held the pack open for Spy who took one.

“Thank you very much. I shall repay the favour as soon as we receive the next Mann Co. supply shipment.”

“Nah mate.”

Spy raised his eyes. 

“Take the whole pack. What are you gonna do with just one?”

“I-I can’t accept, Sniper…!”

“Don’t be silly, o’course you can accept, look.”

The Australian jumped off his van and slipped the pack in the Frenchman’s shirt pocket, on his chest. Spy gasped but tried to make it inaudible for his colleague.

“Oh, uh, merci beaucoup, but, do you have some left for you?” 

[Thanks a lot.]

Finally the very light, almost grey eyes of the masked man looked up at his friend. Sniper was smiling softly.

“I don’t know. I don’t mind. And if I want one, I know I can just come and ask you now, eh?”

Spy blushed intensely under the lagoon blue eyes.

“I suppose so, yes, of course.”

“What d’you say to sharin’ one now?”

“Now?” Spy asked.

“Yeah, follow me.”

Sniper climbed up the ladder to sit on his van’s roof. He looked down.

“C’mon, don’t be shy!”

Spy thought that  _ he  _ himself had the cigarettes now so he had better hurry and not make his friend wait. He climbed up and sat next to Sniper. He gave him one cigarette and took one for himself. The masked man then took his lighter out but feeling his friend’s impatient eyes on him, the damn thing slipped between his fingers and landed between them.

_ “Merde…” _ He whispered, hoping Sniper hadn’t heard him and put his hand on the lighter. “Sorry, Snip-huh?”

Sniper had put his hand on his. Spy looked up in his eyes. The Aussie was smiling under the starry night.

“You gave us the cigs, let me light’em.”

Spy’s heart was beating in all sorts of places, his gloved hand was under his friend’s and he felt its warmth. Out of words and breath, he simply nodded and wanted to move his hand away for Sniper to take the lighter but the tall man wasn’t moving by an inch.

His smile was widening.

“Who would think that an arrogant man like you would lose his tongue like this…?” He chuckled, before freeing Spy’s hand and taking the lighter. 

Sniper flicked the small wheel on the side and a flame sprang up, flickering as shyly as the Frenchman. 

“Come closer.”

Spy bent forward and diverted his eyes. Sniper’s gaze was impressive enough, no need to see it from closer up under the yellow and warm light of the flame. He waited a bit and soon could smell the smoke.

“Merci.”

“You’re welcome.”

Sniper lit his own cigarette and handed the lighter back. Spy put it away and stared in front of him, puffing on his colleague’s cigarette. It wasn’t his usual brand but it would do. 

“So how come you ran out of cigs?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re always very organised and perfect and all. Seems weird you’d run out. Been smokin’ more lately?”

Spy sighed.

“A bit.”

“Sufficiently for you to burn yer cigs a few days in advance. What’s the bother?”

“It is resolved now.”

Sniper’s eyebrows jumped.

“Oh, really?”

“Oui.”

“Spook…?”

Spy looked away and didn’t answer. He was under the spotlight of his friend’s attention and God knew how much the secret man didn’t like any of that. He wasn’t used to it and he felt uncomfortable.

“Hey…?”

“Huh?!”

This time the gasp was audible. Sniper had slid his fingers between Spy’s. 

“I’d be glad to drive you to town tomorrow and you can get more cigs if you want.”

Spy’s eyes were riveted on Sniper’s, open wide and round, like a clueless kitten in front of a wild panther. 

“I-...” His lips parted but the slow blink of Sniper’s eyelids made his mouth go dry instantly.

“You’re welcome.” Sniper chuckled and turned his head to look at the stars. As he had turned, he had taken the Frenchman's hand and kept it between his.

Spy breathed fast and short and his fingers were tense. 

Sniper noticed it. He looked down at his friend’s gloved digits. He pinched the tip of each one of them and pulled the glove away before sliding his fingers between Spy’s again. 

“Better.” He simply said. 

Spy’s heart could burst out of his chest any second now. He looked up and saw that Sniper was still stargazing, and not paying attention to him. He took advantage of it to slide closer to the tall man and lean his masked head on his shoulder. 

“Much better now.” The Aussie said. “Also…”

Spy had closed his eyes to appreciate the embrace.

“You should’ve just come to me if that’s what you wanted.”

“What?” Spy asked.

“I know you didn’t run out of your cigs.”

The Frenchman blushed. 

“You silly…” Sniper laced an arm around his back and pulled him in closer. “Always have to be fancy and complicated, eh?”

Spy melted in Sniper’s arm and closed his eyes again before letting a long satisfied sigh out. 

“Spook..?”

“Hm?”

“Love ya too.”

Spy’s lips pursed in the widest smile.


	42. Baking together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "How about Sniper and Spy baking together? 💕"

The Frenchman was in his suite. It was Saturday night and he didn’t have any plans although, to be honest, he wished it wasn’t so late in the day. Spy had been watching this TV program about baking and it got him furious. Americans really don’t know the delicateness of the art of making pastries and bread. 

Spy thought back at his time in France, where every few streets was blessed with a _boulangerie/pâtisserie_ , in other words bakeries. He remembered how when he woke up early and took a stroll outside, he would be lucky enough to smell the fruit of the bakers’ hard work. The delicate and warm scent of bread as it was cooking was a delicacy in itself. Then, following the aroma through the streets, he would find the bakery and enter. The Frenchman would see the sea of pastries of gold and chocolate, the different baguettes lying in front of him, from pale beige to darker tones, covered in a thin layer of white flour, like the legs of a million young women of all the corners of the world, wearing thin white laces…

_Oh, mon Dieu…_ He thought to himself and melted on his sofa at the mere thought of it.

Suddenly, Spy craved it. He wanted some bread. But not any bread, non, of course not. Not that heresy of a square industrial absurdity that Heavy used for his sandwiches, _ugh! Non!_ Spy craved a baguette, one that would take him back where he came from, one that would paint his heart in the three stripes of his country, blue, white and red. 

He jumped out of his seat and rushed to his kitchen. He threw his gloves away, not caring where they would land and washed his hands before putting on an apron. He tied it neatly around his waist and got himself to work. 

Meanwhile in the shower of the bathroom linked to his suite, Spy’s lover cut the water short and exited. He dried himself before slipping on the dark red satin dressing gown that normally belongs to the Frenchman, and tied it before exiting the shower. 

Sniper looked at the sofa where he had left his lover and couldn’t see him. But soon he heard some noises coming from the kitchen and decided to have a look. He slowly pushed the door and took a peek. He saw the slim silhouette of Spy, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and kneading through the dough of the bread on the table which was now covered in flour. The Frenchman seemed focused on the task at hand and didn’t feel the tall Australian come behind him until his naked arms laced around his waist, from behind. 

“Huh?!” He gasped. “You scared me, _mon chaton.”_

[my kitten]

Spy leaned in his lover’s embrace and Sniper's arms tightened around him. 

“What the hell’re you doin’ this late in the kitchen with yer apron ‘n all?” The Australian peppered kisses in his lover’s neck, on the fabric of the mask. The Frenchman closed his eyes under the sweet attention.

“I am making bread.”

“You are making bread? Now? It must be like what? Past ten in the night, and you’re standin’ here makin’ bread?”

“Oui.”

“Why?”

“Because I want some bread.”

“Can’t it wait for tomorrow? I’ll take ya to town and we’ll get some.”

“Non, I can’t wait.”

“If only you could be that impatient for other stuff…” The Aussie’s hands started exploring under his lover’s apron.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Not now, _mon amour._ Once I finish the bread, I’ll be yours.”

Sniper dropped his arms sadly.

“Alroight… I’ll go and put some clothes on then…”

He dragged his feet away, heading for the living room when a hand to his wrist firmly stopped him.

“Whot?”

Sniper looked down and saw the prettiest eyes God had made gazing upon him. 

“Come on…” Spy said. “Come and help me with the bread.”

“Oh, I, no, Spook, look, I uh, I’m not good with those things, I mean, a barbecue is as far as I can get b-hm?!”

Spy put his flour-covered index finger on his lover’s lips.

“Stop arguing and go wash your hands before joining me, _mon beau.”_

_[My handsome one]_

If there was one man the Australian could not resist, it was this posh one. He had a way to make his voice a mermaid’s song to his ears and his eyes, good Lord his eyes… Spy’s stare was different when he talked to Sniper, it was mellow, it was warm and made the Aussie’s heart swell in his chest.

“Alroight.”

After a minute, Sniper was at Spy’s side.

“So, what do I do?”

“First, remove my gown.”

“Uuuh, luv’, I don’t have much underneath.”

“And…? I fail to see where the problem is, _mon amour…_ ” Spy’s voice sung with his French accent. 

“Alroight, as you want.”

Sniper removed the gown and threw it away in the living room.

“Now, what do I do?”

The Australian stood at the doorstep, as clothed as _Adam_ himself.

“If I wasn’t busy with bread,” Spy said, “a lot of things. But here take this.”

He removed the apron and put it on his lover. 

“Oh, thanks luv’ but uh… Aren’t you gonna get yer clothes dirty with flour?”

“Oui, I will. But it doesn’t matter much. Now, please, come next to me.”

Spy split the dough into two equal parts.

“Here is your half. Look at how I knead it and try and follow my gestures.”

“Okay.”

Spy started slowly, stopping at every other movement to see Sniper imitate him and nod in approval. 

“Am-am I doin’ okay? I uh, I don’t wanna destroy yer late night snack, eh.”

“What are you talking about, you are doing great, _mon amour._ Keep at it. And you are not just _doing_ great…”

Sniper looked at his lover with curious eyes when he saw the Frenchman devour him with his eyes and wink.

“Oh, uh, I see… Ahem… Thanks luv’, you look great too. And it’s not everyday I see you get your fancy clothes dirty.”

“Indeed, it is rare of me to do so.”

“Why’re you doin’ it?”

Spy stopped kneading his half loaf and looked up at his lover. 

“Sniper, how would I keep my clothes clean, hm?”

“With the apron.”

“What would happen if you give it to me?”

“I’d be naked.”

Spy put a hand on his hip.

“And would I be able to continue baking then?”

“Oh… Sorry to be a distraction, then, eh?”

“As if you were sorry…” Spy rolled his eyes and got back to kneading the dough.

Silence fell with their chuckles and they got more focused on the bread. They rolled the dough and beat it rhythmically and soon, even their breaths and their heartbeats synced with the tempo of their hands; until Sniper broke the silence.

“Hey, look up.”

“Hm?” Spy raised his head and as he did so, the Aussie wiped his flour-covered finger on his nose. “Sniper?!”

“Hahahaha! You look so funny with yer mask and yer white nose!”

Spy frowned and didn’t waste any time to retaliate. He grabbed his lover by his chin and stuck his lips on his. While he kissed him, the Frenchman’s fingers slithered through the Aussie’s hair and the taller man moaned, wrapping an arm around his lover’s waist and pulling him closer. The tender gesture took Spy by surprise and he couldn’t smother his own moan. He had just wanted to use the kiss as a distraction but now that he felt Sniper’s body against his, he couldn’t find it in himself to break the the contact. 

In that sense, he fell in his own trap because he wouldn't admit that what he fell for was first and foremost Sniper's charm, the touch of his hands and the slickness and slowness of his lips. Spy's hands ended up on his lover's sideburns, the short thick hairs brushing his fingertips. 

Eventually, the Australian broke the kiss, but not the embrace. He looked down at the object of his desires.

"I love ya." He said low, with his gravelly voice. "I bloody love ya." 

"So do I, Santa Claus."

Sniper's eyebrows shot up. 

"Whot did you call me?!" 

"Look at yourself."

The Aussie's eyes went to the metallic face of the oven and saw his reflection. 

"Shit I look at least twenty years older!"

Spy shaped the loaves of bread into baguettes and put them on the oven tray. 

"Pardon, mon vieil amour." 

Sniper stepped aside and his lover put the bread in the oven.

"Whot did you call me this time?"

"My old love." 

"Yer old-oi! You're older than me!"

Spy closed the oven and smirked. 

"I might be older but you definitely _look_ older now."

"Tsk…!"

Both chuckled. 

"So, how long before we can eat yer baguettes now?" 

"About half an hour." 

"Hm… Plenty o'time…" Sniper answered, pulling Spy from his waist. 

"Oof-time for what?" The Frenchman asked, feigning innocence, his hands sliding up his lover's chest on the apron. 

"Time for me to remove this ridiculous apron and wear a suit."

"You want to wear a suit?!" Spy exclaimed. 

"No you wanker! I meant time to remove the apron and… Y'know…"

"What?" Spy pushed his luck. 

"Oh Lord, how thick you are sometimes…" 

Sniper removed the apron and put it away, when he turned to face his lover, the Frenchman pushed himself to the tip of his toes and latched onto the Aussie's lips. Sniper chuckled and reciprocated the kiss as his fingers undid the buttons of Spy's shirt. 

As the two lovers got more passionate and hotter, the _baguettes_ were slowly rising and hardening...


	43. Spy's béret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Mundy in a beret
> 
> please consider:
> 
> sniper jokingly trying to do a french impression after donning the hat, and he fails miserably
> 
> he's thinking spy would've been at his throat by now given how horrible his accent was, but lo and behold, the man was just looking at him in amusement,
> 
> before stepping towards mundy, taking his hat, and nails an australian accent right off the bat, teasing sniper afterwards"

* * *

The day had been long but thank God it was Friday and the mercenaries could enjoy a relaxed evening. Most of them were in the living-room but two of them were further away. 

In the Frenchman’s suite, one was enjoying a cold beer while the other had uncorked a bottle of wine. 

“Spook, you were supposed to laugh there…”

“Oh, pardon… But how was your anecdote  _ funny?” _

Sniper sighed and let his hand sink from his brow down to this chin.

“Roight, let me try somethin’ else then. So it’s the story of a bloke, roight?”

“Oui…”

“He goes into a bar with an American friend of his, roight?”

“Oui…”

Sniper went on with his joke until the conclusion.

“Get it?”

“I understand it, oui.”

“But you don’t find it funny…” The Australian sighed, disheartened. “Christ sake, Spook, ya need to learn how to laugh.”

The Frenchman chuckled and lit a cigarette. 

“Oh now you laugh?!”

Spy put the cigarette between his lover’s lips and lit one for himself.

“Seeing you trying that hard does amuse me,  _ mon chaton.” _

_ [my kitten] _

He tilted his head on the side and snickered while Sniper crossed his arms on his chest.

“I’m not yer kitten.”

“You are right, you are not my kitten.”

Sniper’s eyebrows jumped. He had never heard his lover tell him he was right about anything. Actually the pillars on which their entire relationship rested was exactly their banter and the fact that they never agreed on anything. 

“What?” He only managed to ask, overwhelmed by the surprise.

“You are not my kitten.” The Frenchman repeated. “ _ Tu es mon chaton.” _

[You are my kitten.]

Sniper snapped. He stole his lover’s béret off his very head and put it on his own. 

“ _ Oui, hon, hon, hon, Snyper, you are my smol kitten and I am so arrogant and clever, look at me I am right all zhe time!” _

Spy’s jaw had dropped at the ridiculous imitation but his lover went on.

_ “Oui look at me! I am zhe most handsome man for miles around - oh I should say kilometres because we don’t have miles in la France, hon, hon, hon!” _

There was a moment of awkward silence where Spy was staring at Sniper’s eyes, his pupils dark and his gaze intense. The Aussie knew he had probably gone too far. It was very unlike him to talk for so long like that and it was very unlike him to mock his masked companion. He feared that he had crossed the line and spoiled the evening for both of them. 

“Pff...Pwahahaha!” The Frenchman lost it and burst out laughing, catching his breath in the short snorts that Sniper found so adorable on him. 

“W-wait, you’re not mad?”

_ “It’s alroight, mate, no worries.” _

Sniper’s jaw dropped. His lover had nailed the Australian accent, he absolutely sounded like a native!

“How the hell did you do that?!” Sniper exclaimed, his voice going high in pitch.

“There are  _ heaps _ of things you still don’t know about me,  _ mon chaton. _ ” Spy answered, raising a mysterious eyebrow as he smirked. He took his lover’s brown hat from the sofa and dropped it on his own head, tilting it slightly on the side, just for the style of it.

“Wait, you can talk with a perfect Aussie accent but -- wait, why don’t you do that all the time with me?”

Spy snickered maliciously.

“We both know why my native French accent is better.”

Sniper blushed. Yes, he had a weakness for it but he had never said it. How the hell did Spy guess it? 

“Pff… Show off…!”

“Oui but the blush on your cheeks tell me that you are not insensitive to it, hm?”

The Frenchman straddled his lover’s thighs and stared at him the way he knew had the most effect. He cupped the Aussie’s face with his naked hands and slowly blinked, his eyelids moving like the slow flap of a butterfly's wings.

“Even now, I can see your pupils grow, Mister Hunter.”

“Yours too, Spook.”

Spy smiled and adjusted the béret on Sniper’s head.

“Of course they do. You look charming with a béret.”

“And you, with my hat.”

“Oh, I know. Look at he pink on your cheeks and the size of your pupils. You, Mister, are under the charm of what your eyes lay upon. And I might add that I can almost hear your heartbeat from here.”

Sniper smiled shyly.

“Now that I have yer hat, does that mean I’m French?”

The man behind the mask chuckled.

“I am told you need more than that to get the citizenship, I’m afraid.”

“Then… Is sleepin’ with a sexy Frenchie enough?”

“It depends.” Spy arrogantly answered.

“On what?”

“Spend the night with me and I’ll tell you tomorrow morning.”

Spy put his lips shyly on his lover, briefly, just to tease.

“What about that, hm?” The Frenchman was resting his forehead against his lover’s.

Of course Spy knew that Sniper would accept but he just wanted to see it. Ah, the Aussie’s half-lidded, lagoon blue eyes, his lips pursing in a smile. The look of abandoning himself to the Frenchman, the trust that Sniper was giving his lover. _That_ was what made Spy weak, amongst other things. Sniper laced his arms around his lover’s neck and pulled him closer for a kiss.


	44. Spy-cy bottom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "What about Spy as a bottom?" - Needless to say, this is adult content!

The day had been exhausting and the battles, fierce. But thank God it was behind the mercenaries now and the evening was calm. 

It was summer and the nights were perfect for the Frenchman to enjoy a cigarette. Spy was outside of the base, he had walked to the wall with the least windows and leaned against it, enjoying his poisonous smokes. 

The night was indeed very calm and in the middle of the desert, there was very little pollution of any kind. Spy looked at the sky. The horizon was still pink but most of it was now violet. He sighed. 

His day had been very long but very rewarding as well. He ended up with the most kills and his teammates congratulated him for it. The Frenchman who was naturally proud, felt like a king. 

Although, now that he thought about it, there was one colleague of his who had disappeared right after the end of the battles. He even didn't show up for dinner. 

Spy frowned. It was odd. He didn't know why his lover would react that way. Something was wrong with him maybe, but he didn't dare go and disturb him in his van. Chances are he wanted to be undisturbed and that's why he had taken his leave of his colleagues.

The Frenchman pondered for a while. He wished he could spend the evening in his arms… 

"There you are."

Spy looked on his right and saw the dark silhouette of a tall man get closer. 

"Sniper?" 

The Australian came to face his lover. 

"Been lookin' for you. You come here to smoke often?" 

The Frenchman raised a curious eyebrow. He found it strange that the Aussie wasn't angry…

"You were looking for me?" 

"'Course I was."

Spy dropped his cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it below his sole. 

"And yet you vanished after the battles and you didn't come for dinner." 

"Nah, I uh… I needed some time alone." 

Spy raised his head to see his lover better but the darkness of the night wrapped them both tightly. 

"What is the matter?" He asked. 

Sniper put his forearm on the wall next to the Frenchman's head and leaned in to press his forehead against his lover's. Spy frowned as a strange smell tickled his nostrils. 

"And what is that smell…?" 

"I uh… I heard you were the top of the team today." 

"Oui, indeed. I was distraught to not see you congratulate me for it."

Spy felt Sniper's hand on his waist. 

"What makes you think I'm not…?" 

"Well I haven't heard a  _ 'congratulations'  _ yet…!" 

"Nah, it's true. But you know I'm bad with words." 

"And I know how proud you can be." Spy said, smirking. "You, Monsieur, are too proud, and maybe a bit jealous…!" 

The Frenchman tapped the tip of his lover's nose playfully. 

"Jealous?! Me?!" Sniper exclaimed. 

"Oui, you are jealous. You think you could have done better than me." Spy playfully added, just to tease his lover further. 

"No! I don't think I could've done better, I  _ know for a fact _ I'd have done better!" 

"So why didn't you do it, hm?" 

"Because!" The Aussie answered. "Maybe I wanted you to win…?" He raised a playful eyebrow.

"You wanted me to win?" Spy repeated, unconvinced. 

"Yeah…" Sniper put a leg between Spy's, blocking him between the wall and his body. The strange smell came stronger to the Frenchman's nose. It wasn't unpleasant at all…

"Maybe I wanted you to win, who knows…?" 

Sniper's hand went to his lover's cheek. He stroked it slowly on the mask, while staring at his eyes. Neither of them could see each other but they felt it, in the loud silence, in the heated breaths, in the heartbeats. Tension. 

"What is your point?" Spy asked. 

"Follow me. You'll see." 

Sniper headed back to the base, Spy on his heels, intrigued as much as he was surprised. They entered the base, crossed the corridor and the Aussie stopped at the Frenchman's door. 

"Open it." 

Spy frowned. 

"Have you lost your key?" He asked as he obliged. 

As soon as he unlocked it and pushed, Sniper pushed him in and closed the door after him. 

"What is it, Sniper?" 

"Now go to the bedroom." 

The Frenchman felt suspicious but nonetheless did as he was told. He pushed the bedroom door in and-

"Mon Dieu… Did  _ you  _ do that?!" He exclaimed. 

In the room, only some candles shimmered in the dark night and the bed was peppered with dark red rose petals. 

"Who else?" Sniper answered as he closed the door behind them. 

Spy approached the bed and took a petal between his gloved hand. He raised it to his nose and smelled. 

"They are real…" He said as his eyes darted to his lover. He had smelled the distinct perfume on him.  _ That _ was the unusual but delicious scent that lingered on his lover.

"Course they are." 

The Frenchman's eyes went to the night table on his side. 

"What is that…?"

"Have a look." 

As Spy got closer, he realised it was a box of chocolate, but not any kind. It was the only brand he accepted to buy himself.  _ Expensive and arrogant as all hell _ , the Aussie had said the other day. 

"But I ran out of them, did you…?"

Spy felt his lover's arms wrap around him tenderly from behind.

"Yeah, that's why I disappeared right after work. I jumped into the van and drove as fast as I could to get them, the roses and organise all this." Sniper answered. 

"But why?" 

"Because you deserve it. You were the best today and I s'ppose you're at least as tired as I am." Sniper pushed his cheek against his lover's and Spy smiled. 

"Oui, it is true. Today has been exhausting." 

"Y'know what?"

Sniper whispered on the mask where Spy's ear was. 

"What?" 

"What if…" The Aussie pulled his lover's jacket down. "you and I just lie down, hm?" 

"I would appreciate it." Spy answered as he turned to face the bed. 

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." 

Sniper grabbed him by his tie and pulled to make him face the Aussie. 

"What?" Spy raised an eyebrow.

Sniper was smiling. 

"Not so fast, luv'..." 

He pulled on the tie again and bent down to meet Spy's lips. As he kissed him, he felt the Frenchman's hands slither up his chest and stop when they reached his cheeks. 

When they broke the kiss, both were grinning. 

"Fine, Monsieur Sniper. You take the lead…"

"Now we're talkin'..." 

Sniper kissed his lover again and pushed him. Spy walked back under the force of his lover's lips until his calves touched the bed. But Sniper went on pushing and the Frenchman's knees yielded as he dropped himself on the bed, sitting on the petals. 

The Aussie smiled and put a knee on the bed, coming back to Spy's lips and pushing him to lie down. The Frenchman softly chuckled and soon the tie flew out of his neck. 

"I like where this is all going." He whispered. 

"Oh that's barely nothin'." Sniper answered. "Tonight, you're gonna enjoy yerself and nothing else."

Spy looked his lover in the eye. 

"Please, make me." 

Sniper chuckled with his low and gravelly voice.

"Oh I will, darl', I will."

He came back again to Spy's lips but this time his kisses were more heated and teased the Frenchman below him in a way he knew he could hardly resist. Sniper pushed his lips on Spy only to disconnect quickly after, making him want more. The Frenchman moaned, asking for a longer contact with his lover's lips but Sniper denied him that luxury and finished opening Spy's shirt. He flashed it open and took a second to take in the expanse of bare flesh beneath him as if he was discovering it for the first time. 

Spy smirked. Each time they got naked, Sniper would always look at him that way, with eager, hungry eyes. The Frenchman took the opportunity and removed his mask. Sniper's eyes went straight to his face. He straddled his lover's body, one knee planted on each side of him and slid his fingers through Spy's salt and pepper hair. 

"Bloody hell, you're gorgeous."

"You sound surprised…? Have you never noticed?" Spy playfully asked as his gloved finger traced a loop on Sniper's cheek before going down to his lips. 

The Australian bit the dark glove between his teeth and pulled on it slightly. Spy blushed and offered his other fingers. After they all came loose, Sniper pulled on the middle finger with his teeth again and the whole glove slid out. 

"Sniper…"

The low chuckle that he got as an answer made Spy warm and fuzzy. He felt Sniper's fingers massage his scalp slowly and closed his eyes, his lips parting. Spy let a long sigh escape his mouth and Sniper smiled. That's all he wanted, to treat the Frenchman to a night where he should just relax. 

"Spook…?"

The Frenchman felt the warm breath again his ear as Sniper whispered. 

"You're beautiful… You're so, bloody, gorgeous…" 

Spy smiled, his eyes still closed as he felt his lover's body against him more and more. 

"Ooh…" He failed to hold back an open-mouthed moan as Sniper nibbled at his neck. He kissed the sensitive skin and nipped at it below the Frenchman's ear and Spy naturally turned his head, as if to ask for more attention there, wordlessly. 

Sniper closed his eyes and obliged. He savoured the skin like a delicacy, lapping at it slowly, making sure to take his time and make Spy's head spin. 

The poor Frenchman wanted quite a bit more. He grasped Sniper's hair and pulled him up. When their lips met, Spy didn't wait to  _ add the French to the kiss  _ and Sniper was delighted about it all. He pushed Spy's tongue back with his, tasting the nicotine of the cigarette he had smoke when he found him, and all of those before that one. 

He smiled. Sniper loved it. He massaged his tongue against Spy's as he felt the Frenchman fiddle with the buttons of his red shirt. Soon, it was fully open and Sniper removed it and threw it away. 

Spy curled a hand behind Sniper's neck and pulled him more strongly into the kiss. But it was only when Sniper felt Spy's hand grasping his backside firmly that the Aussie screwed his eyes shut tighter and moaned. 

Ah, Spy wanted more for sure. He was raising his hips off the bed and grinding them against Sniper in a needy way. 

The Aussie undid both their belts and they took a second to removed the rest of their clothes before Spy laid on his back again on the bed and Sniper climbed on top of him. 

Now both were naked and very hot as a sweat started breaking on them both. 

"Hmm… Spy…"

"Hm-oui?" He asked between two moans and a kiss. 

"I love you, you bastard… You turn me on so much…" 

Spy smirked. 

"Of course I do." He arrogantly answered and rolled on the bed to be the one on top of Sniper. He was now sitting on his abdomen, straddling his body, and smiled as he bent down and kissed again, but this time, the Aussie's neck. 

"Oh… Spy…" 

The Frenchman splayed his hands flat on Sniper's chest as he kissed, nibbled and lapped there. 

"Hm! Ooh…!"

Sniper had powerfully grabbed Spy's backside in both his hands and was pulling on it. He knew the Frenchman was sensitive there and the loud, high-pitch moan confirmed it. Sniper didn't let go of his lover's tender flesh. Spy tried to continue kissing but he couldn't, he raised his head for fresh air and laid on his lover's chest, digging his nails in it harder and grinding against the Aussie harder too.

Sniper chuckled at how easily the arrogant man could melt… 

He rolled on the bed and laid Spy on his stomach. The Frenchman knew what was coming and opened his legs. Sniper peppered kisses on his lover's back all the way down until he found the soft flesh and kissed it before biting in.

"Awh!" 

Sniper closed his eyes and let his tongue explore it all. Spy's thighs were shaking with anticipation. The Australian felt it and pushed them open before groping Spy and treating him more with his tongue. 

The Frenchman's breath was a melody in itself but now that he was almost whimpering, the Aussie could feel his member twitch… Spy was moaning with an open mouth at the sensation of Sniper's tongue where soon he would feel something else. The slickness and slowness with which the Aussie treated him made his eyes roll up in bliss. 

"Oh mon Dieu… Sniper…" 

Spy slid his hand in the Aussie's hair and grasped his brown locks firmly. 

"Oui… Hm… That feels… amazing… please…"

Sniper's ears burnt with the pleasure that his lover was singing and he let his tongue be even slower and spread it wider. 

"Sniper… please… I… Sniper…" 

The Australian stopped just to get the bottle from the drawer on the night table. He spread its content on his fingers and laid on top of Spy, on his back. He whispered in his ear. 

"Enjoyin' yerself I see, eh?" 

"Oui… You make me feel fantastic…"

"What about now…?" 

Spy felt a finger breach his intimacy. 

"Oh-!" He moaned loud and tried to relax his lower body as much as possible. 

Sniper's index slid in slickly and without barely any effort, and even less resistance.

"Sniper…"

"Shhh… Tonight, you just enjoy, alroight? I want you to feel good." Sniper slid another finger in and Spy's moan jumped an octave. It all felt terribly good… 

The Australian took his time to prepare his lover as the last thing he wanted was to hurt him. 

"What do you think, hm?" He growled in his ear. 

"I-I love it… I love you… Sniper…"

"Relax, I know you're still a bit tense down there, I can feel it…"

To help him, Sniper slid his other hand between the bed and his lover's body. He quickly found his masculinity hard and standing at attention. He slowly stroked it.

"Aah, ah, slowly, please, nnh-!" 

Spy bit his lip as the sweat dripped down his brow. Sniper went slow and with that, he felt that his lover was completely relaxed. 

"There we are… much better." 

The Aussie sat up and spread more of the bottle's content on his fingers before coating his own throbbing member. He laid flat on his lover's back and Spy could feel Sniper's wet masculinity on his lower back. The Aussie kissed his lover's neck as he grinded his hips slowly against the Frenchman's backside.

"Please, Sniper…" 

"Huh?" 

Spy turned his head on his side. 

"Don't make me wait more…”

The Aussie chuckled. He felt his lover raise his hips off the bed and push his backside against Sniper’s length.

“I thought you were tired…” The Australian teased. “I just want to take it slow, y’know, not get the old man that you are exhausted…”

“Pfff, shut up…”

“Alroight, alroight…” 

The Aussie positioned himself and slowly entered his lover’s intimacy with his masculinity.

“Oooh… oui….” The Frenchman purred. “Hmmm…” He grasped the bedsheets firmly left and right and clenched his fists.

Sniper was going very slowly to not hurt his lover but also to build up his anticipation. He slid in slickly, without too much effort, and when he was comfortably settled, he laid on his lover’s back, crushing him with all his weight. 

“Hmmm, luv’, you feel amazing…”

The Australian growled his lover’s ear and wrapped his arms around him. He stayed in without moving for a few seconds.

“God, how much I love you…”

He started moving his hips slowly.

“Me too… Awh... Mon Dieu…”

Sniper tenderly put his teeth on his lover’s shoulder below him and let them sink as he picked up the pace.

The moans and sighed turned into groans and growls as both were melting in the heat of their embrace. Sniper felt Spy meet each of his thrusts with an eager roll of his own hips. Oh the Frenchman dearly appreciated how tightly his lover was holding him in his arms. He felt safe in a way that he could truly be himself. And that only could happen and did happen with his beloved Australian lover. He had gone through hell and back multiple times in his life and even over the years at Mann Co.. But the one man who stood by him no matter what, was him. As obvious as it sounded, the Frenchman discovered he could not resist the idea of a man who would give him patience, a man who would understand that all Spy needed and wanted, despite him never showing it, was soft affection. And somehow the Australian always knew what to do, or not do, without Spy having to say anything. He was  _ an instinctive man _ , as they said in French.

“Oh… Mon amour, oui, awh, je t’aime, je t’aime tellement…”

[Oh… My love, yes, awh, I love you, I love you so much...]

Sniper smiled. He knew that if Spy lost his English, it was only because his head had been sending to spin long ago and he was approaching the highest of highs.

“Spy…” Sniper went slower and rolled his hips more lovingly. the Frenchman rolled his eyes in agony for his liberation that he felt imminent.

“Sniper, please, please…”

The Aussie slid his hand on his lover’s aching member and realised that it was dripping with lust. 

“You’re so good…” He thrust in.

“Awh!”

Spy’s length slid between his lover’s finger.

“Sniper, I-I’m really close…”

“I know, luv’, take a deep breath.”

The Frenchman did as he was told and Sniper thrust in again.

“Ah!”

“Relax, luv’, you’re in safe hands, I love you, I just love you.”

“Nnnh-h!”

Spy bit the pillow below him and gritted his teeth. It took Sniper only a couple of more thrusts and with his growls directly flowing and tickling his lover’s ear, he felt it all. The man below him, sandwiched between his hot body and the bed was shaking, Spy grunted and buried himself deeper in the bed and in his lover’s arms. Sniper pushed himself all the way in and feeling his lover reached his peak, he yielded to his too, with a loud groan that resounded in the Frenchman’s ear in the most exquisite manner.

“Oh God… Spy… You’re just perfect…”

Sniper stayed in place until his breath calmed down and his heartbeat came back to normal. Meanwhile, he peppered kisses behind his lover’s ear. He saw that Spy had kept his eyes shut. He looked almost disturbingly defenseless.  _ That _ , Sniper thought, was one of the most beautiful sights God blessed him with; Spy peacefully resting after being satisfied.

A few minutes later both were lying in the bed, under the sheets, the rose petals half on it and half on the floor. The Frenchman was using his lover’s shoulder as a pillow.

“Spook?”

“Oui?”

“You really did great, today. I’m uh, I’m proud of you.”

“Ah, finally. I waited long enough to hear you compliment me on my performance on the battlefield.”

Sniper chuckled.

“I’m not talkin’ about work, you idiot.”

“Oh…?”

“I really felt you relaxed and uh, yeah, it felt like you really gave yourself away.”

Spy blushed.

“Thanks for that, really.” Sniper added before turning his head and planting a kiss on his lover’s brow.

“You were fantastic too,  _ mon bel amour.” _

[my beautiful love]

“I’m glad you enjoyed yerself.”

“I did.”

“But just for the record, I could have had more kills than you today, alroight?”

Spy raised his head off his lover’s shoulder all of a sudden.

“What?! Non! You couldn’t have, and in any case you didn’t. As they say in English,  _ suck it up!” _

Sniper’s grin widened.

“Oh believe me I would…”

He put his hand on Spy’s cheek before pulling him in and locking his lips on his lover’s.


	45. Perle's sock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Can u write one where Lucien or Mundy wants to wear something but Perle steals it hehehehe"

The Australian exited the bathroom, wearing his lover’s gown on his shoulders. He liked it. It smelled of the Frenchman and was smoother than silk. The shoulders were a bit tight but it was fine as long as Sniper kept it loosely tied around his waist. 

He went to the bedroom in Spy’s suite and put on some clothes. As Mann Co. required, he went for a red shirt with yellow target symbols on his shoulders and a brown pair of trousers. He adjusted the belt and grabbed a pair of socks from a drawer. 

“Meow?”

“Oh, hello Pearl.”

Perle, the Frenchman’s white cat jumped on the bed and sat next to the Aussie. He scratched her head, through her fluffy fur and she purred loudly, twisting and turning under the touch. She came closer to him and sat on his lap. Perle pushed herself on her back legs and brushed her head against Sniper’s mouth. He hugged her and left a kiss on the top of her head.

“Came here for pets? Is Spook not givin’ you enough?”

“Meow…”

“O’course not. And if you can get extra, you will, won’t ya?”

She purred under his hand.

“Roight, now let me just wear my socks and we’ll go and see yer-Oi! give it back!”

Perle had taken one of the Aussie’s sock in her mouth and trotted around him. 

“C’mon, please, pretty cat… Give it back.”

He extended his hand to her but she turned her head and arrogantly refused.

“Don’t be as stubborn as Spy now, just give it to me…”

The lady cat still gave her back to the tall man wearing only one sock.

“And what are you gonna do with it anyway, eh?”

Perle turned her head to look at him and trotted away, exiting the bedroom, the sock still between her needle-like teeth. Sniper sighed and stood up lazily. When he arrived in the living-room, he found his lover on the sofa and Perle curled up in a ball of fur on his lap.

“Spook?”

“Oui?”

Sniper stood in front of his lover.

“Can you tell her to give me my sock back?”

Spy’s eyes went to his lover’s feet and he realised that he was indeed missing a sock.

“Why?” He playfully asked.

“Well I can’t walk around with just one now, can I?”

“Of course you  _ can _ , it is merely a question of will.”

“Alroight then!” Sniper put his hands on his hips. “I’ll go ‘round the base half barefoot, see what people will say, eh?”

The entire base knew that the marksman and the masked man were closer than friends and Sniper knew that his lover made a point of him being impeccably dressed, or as well as he could be. 

"They will no doubt say that you exited my room in precipitation and that you didn't fully dress up after a torrid night of passionate love." 

The Aussie turned as red as a brick in a flash and Spy smirked. 

"So if you want to go and parade half-barefoot, be my guest." He added and Sniper dropped himself on the sofa, a hand covering his face. 

The Frenchman chuckled, continuing to pet his cat, curled in his lap. She was purring under his fingers. 

"Oh, don't be so shy…" 

"Ye have no shame, I swear…"

"Oh, I used to." 

Sniper let his hand sink down and turned to look at his lover. 

"You  _ used to?" _ He repeated. "When? And what happened?" 

Spy's eyes were riveted on his fluffy white companion. 

"Before I met you." 

Sniper sighed with a smile. 

"Ya wanker…"

"Only when you ask nicely." Spy snickered. 

"Spook!" 

The Aussie blushed so much he might have burst. 

"I am only pulling your leg."

"Bloody happy to hear you are! Now, please my sock?"

"Ah, oui. Perle, please?" 

Perle jumped off of her master's lap and trotted away. Sniper burst out laughing.

"Hahaha! She doesn't listen to you either eh?" 

"You are very much mistaken." The Frenchman confidently answered. 

"What're you talking about? She's ran away, she's not givin' the sock back!"

"Oui, but I never asked her to give it back." 

Sniper stopped laughing sharp and raised an eyebrow. 

"Whot?! What did you ask her then?"

"Nothing, or rather not directly. While you were in the bathroom, I just told her that I wished clothes didn't exist, at least not for you." 

"The hell are you on about?" 

Spy chuckled. 

"First, you have no sense of fashion whatsoever. You dress up because you have been told that you have to."

"Yeah, well-"

"Secondly," The Frenchman cut him and turned his ice-blue eyes to his lover. Sniper gulped loudly. "I much prefer the sight of you without those tasteless fabrics of yours. Perle?" 

The lady cat trotted back to her master and laid on his lap. 

"La chaussette, s'il te plaît." 

[The sock, please.]

The cat dropped her prize on her master's lap. He scratched her head and stroked below her jaw. Perle closed her eyes and purred. 

"Merci, ma belle." 

[Thank you, beautiful.]

Sniper extended his hand to take it but the Frenchman threw the white sock behind him over the sofa. 

"Spook?!" 

"Meow!"

"Oui, Perle, he does not listen…" Spy sighed with a smirk. "Everything has a price, Bushman." 

"You want me to pay you to get my sock back?!"

"Oui. Perle, s'il te plaît, tu peux nous laisser?"

[Perle, please, can you leave us alone?]

Sniper followed the cat with his eyes. She happily went away. When he faced his lover again, Spy was on his lap, straddling his thighs. 

"Huh?" The Aussie's eyes snapped wide. Spy wrapped his arms around his lover's neck and grinned smugly.

"Here is my proposition to you."

"Nah, Spook," Sniper put his index on Spy's lips. "I know what you'll say and no, I've just come out of the shower and-mh?!" 

Now Spy added his finger on his lover's lips and wiggled his eyebrows. He didn't need to speak for what he had in mind. The Aussie felt the Frenchman's finger on the buttons of his shirt and the tall man rolled his eyes. Sniper felt the breeze of cool air slide on his chest.

"Hmm-hm-fmh-hm!"

Spy removed his finger momentarily and Sniper repeated. 

"Oh for Christ's sake!"

"Hhm-mhh!" 

"Whot?" 

"Hm!"

"Oh, sorry." 

Sniper removed his finger off Spy's lips. 

"Ah, much better." 

Their lips met and suddenly, the Australian didn't mind much having to take a second shower.


	46. Sniper's bed secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I had a random thought while I was lonely one night and wanted to see if you can make it into a fic if you want. So Sniper has a prized stuffed toy since he was a child (a koala maybe) and he doesn't tell anyone about it coz he thinks its weird. Spy finds out about it tho and ends up cuddling the thing. Sniper sees him and joins the cuddling session. (Hope you have a wonderful day btw!!)"

* * *

"Bushman…?" 

Spy had been looking for his lover all afternoon long. 

"Have you seen Sniper by any chance?" 

The Frenchman peeked his head in the living room.

"Nah, lad, sorry…" Demo answered, his faithful bottle of scrumpy in his hand. "Last time I saw him - _ burp- _ he was going to his van." 

"Did anyone see him after that?" 

"Yeah, I did." Scout answered. 

"Ah, where?" 

"In yo bed, stupid!" 

Spy rolled his eyes. 

"Ugh…" 

The Frenchman left. He didn't mind Scout's insults much and took it for jealousy rather than actual aggressive words. Spy headed to his lover's van. He gave a few knocks. 

"Bushman?" 

No answer and nothing to hear either. He looked at the door closely and smiled. The lock seemed so easy to pick, it might as well have been begging the Frenchman to do it. Spy elegantly took his cigarette case off his breast pocket and flipped it open. Behind the neatly lined up menthol cigarettes, he retrieved two pins and with a light click, the lock yielded. 

"Ah!" 

Spy pushed the door from the tip of his gloved fingers and smirked before slipping in and shutting the door after him. 

"Sniper?" 

Still no answer. The Frenchman was sure that his lover was somewhere else. He took advantage of the situation to, well, do what he does best and what his job title says… 

_ He took an innocent glance here and there.  _

Well, yes, alright, he  _ pried and spied around _ … 

The Frenchman let his fingers run on his lover's belongings. Mugs, cutlery, a plate here; framed pictures and clothes there. He took one in his hand and and looked closer. The Australian was only a little boy on that picture and he was proudly displaying a fish he no doubt had just caught. Spy smiled sweetly when he realised that his lover was so young that he was missing a tooth at the front. It warmed his heart. Sniper's parents stood proud right and left from him and all three of them were smiling at the camera. 

The Frenchman sighed. He wished he had met his lover earlier in life…

Spy put the picture back and turned to Sniper's bed. The man in the fancy suit would hate the thing if not for one reason: if he slept there, it was in the warm arms of his dearest. 

"Oh…?" 

Spy noticed something in the corner of the bed. He reached for it with his arm and retrieved it. 

"Mon Dieu…" 

Spy's eyebrows jumped and he chuckled when he realised that he was holding in his hand a stuffed little koala bear. It was completely grey as it looked as old as its owner. The Frenchman rolled his eyes. People who didn't know Sniper as well as he did would not understand, but he did. He knew that his lover hid the soul of a poet behind his yellow-tinted glasses, someone who truly enjoyed the beauty of nature, fauna, flora, and well… Spy's natural charm and beauty too!

The Frenchman had stayed in his lover's van for quite a while longer, waiting for Sniper to appear. He eventually did. 

"Huh?! How the bloody hell did you get in?! I always have my door locked!"

"Good day to you too. And what time do you call this?" The Frenchman answered, raising an eyebrow. 

"Good Lord, Spook, you scared me. I didn't expect you to be here…!" Sniper added as he shut and locked the door behind him. He removed his vest. 

Spy walked to him like he would on a catwalk, his gait elegant and attractive. He wrapped his arms around Sniper's neck. 

"I am sorry to have scared you,  _ mon coeur."  _

_ [Sweetheart] _

He put his lips against his lover's for a quick peck and felt Sniper's hands on his waist. 

"It's alroight… I'm actually quite happy to see you as I come back. 's a nice feelin' opening the door and seeing you, especially without yer jacket, vest'n all." 

"I just feel tired… Today was a long day and you made it even longer by making me wait for you here!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, luv'..." Spy leaned his head on Sniper's chest and the Aussie hugged him dearly. "I was just back in the base for a shower and then I wanted to talk to Engie. The van's makin' weird noises when I switch gears and I wanted his opinion." 

"Hmm…" Spy answered. His ear was on Sniper's chest such that when the tall man talked, Spy would feel all the vibrations of his lover's low voice through his skull. 

"Wanna lie down a bit?" Sniper suggested. 

"Oui, please."

"Here or…?" 

"Oui, here, I don't have the heart to leave your arms now."

Sniper smiled. He knew that Spy never showed that side of him to anyone else and that made it all the more special. 

"Roight climb up the bed, I'll remove my boots and join ya." 

"Fine." 

The Frenchman undid the first few buttons of his shirt and laid on his lover's bed. Sniper was quick to slip out of his boots and lie down next to his special man. He spooned him and left a few peck behind Spy's neck. 

"Hm… Merci…"

[Thank you…]

"You're welcome." Sniper whispered. "Love ya." 

Spy had closed his eyes and hearing the Aussie tell him those words made a smile flash across his face. 

"I love you too, Sniper. Oh, by the way, I think we are missing someone." 

"What?" 

Spy turned to face his lover. 

"I think we are missing someone." 

"Here? In my bed?" Sniper asked, overwhelmed by the confusion.

"Oui. Here…" 

Spy handed the stuffed koala plush to his lover and saw his cheeks turn crimson. 

"Oh, uh, well, I-uh, you've found'im, eh?" 

"Indeed I have."

"Wait…" Sniper took it in his hands and observed it more keenly. "Did you clean it?!"

Spy nodded with a smile. 

"It was terribly dusty and the white on it wasn't white anymore. I just used some of your washing liquid and your sponge. It is not much I'm afraid, but at least he looks more like a koala now." 

Sniper's eyes darted up to his lover's. 

"Y-you're not makin' fun of me?" 

"Non, I find it touching. I imagine you have had it for a very long time, non?" 

"Yeah, since I was a kid really. I can sleep without it as you know but uh, I still keep it. I can't throw it away." 

"I understand." Spy answered as he threw his gloves away and put his hand on his lover's cheek.

"Oh… Uh… Thanks for not laughing at me.”

Spy brushed Sniper's cheek with his naked fingers. He felt the rough skin and the sideburns below his soothing digits. 

"I cannot say that I did not chuckle when I found it but it was out of cuteness. Your sensitivity shows in the most naive ways. I like that about you."

Sniper extended his hand but Spy held him back. 

"You may keep it with you if you want." 

"Nah." Sniper put it away. "I've got a better koala now." 

Spy raised a curious eyebrow as Sniper pulled him in closer. 

"Where is it?" The Frenchman asked. 

"Roight in front of me. The most clingy, grey-haired and adorable thing I've ever seen…"

"Oh I am a thing now, am I?" 

"You, little mister, are the best plush ever."

"Hm…"

Spy spooned his lover, lacing his arms around his waist. 

"I had better be." He answered. 

"Oh, you are, no doubt about that. You're very soft, atrociously cuddly, and you're even warm! How much better could it get?"

"Oh I can show you how…" 

The French accent sung in the hunter's ear and soon Sniper felt his lover's hands on his chest, sliding up to find the buttons of his shirt.


	47. Lip balm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "(Thought of this while plucking at my dry ass lips) During the winter, Spy always brings with him a chapstick because of how dry and chapped his lips would easily turn. One day, he can't find it (probably Scout) and ends the battle with dry and bloodied lips (since he's always nipping and biting at it). Sniper notices and offers to help. Starts with him just licking to full blown kissing. Lotsa kisses TwT"
> 
> I changed a few things, but the core idea is still there ^^

* * *

The battle ended with the  _ melodious _ voice of the Administrator booming through the speakers. 

The mercenaries headed back to the base, their feet sinking in the snow, which crunched below their soles. The winter was harsh and as if the temperatures were not low enough, the wind froze everything further under its ice lick.

Speaking of lick. 

The Frenchman licked his dried lips and did far from hydrating them. He was back in his suite and headed for the bathroom with burning lips and the iron taste of blood on his tongue. As he looked at himself on the mirror, he realised how badly chapped his lips were. 

"Merde…"

[Shit…]

Ah, that bad habit of biting and tugging at his skin there, as if his lips could withstand it…! He looked through his belongings to find some lip balm. 

"Ah, bien."

[Ah, good.]

When he found the tube, he opened it and-

"Merde!"

[Shit!]

The beige plastic tube was empty. He chucked it in the bin as he exited his suite, grabbing his coat and scarf with him. The Frenchman cursed again as he exited the base building and walked through the snow to the beige and washed-out green campervan. When he reached it, he gave a few knocks. 

"Who's that?" 

"Your favourite ice-cream if you don't open soon!"

Sniper opened the door and let his lover in. 

"What the hell are you doin' outside, luv'? I thought you were in yer room." 

Spy was shivering but thank God the Aussie's narrow dwelling was well heated. 

"And I was. I have come here to ask you if you had any lip balm, please. My lips are suffering terribly." 

Sniper cupped his lover's cold face with his warm palms and looked. 

"Yeah, I can see that. Told ya to stop bitin' them!" 

"Believe me, I much prefer when  _ you  _ do it. But sadly enough, I can't help it…" 

The Aussie bent down and left a kiss on his lover's cheek. 

"Get yerself comfy here, I'll get you some." 

"Merci, mon amour."

[Thanks, my love.]

Spy removed his coat and scarf and sat down for a second. He put his hands closer to the small electric heater that Sniper owned and felt his fingers wake up gently. 

"Here we are, lip balm!" Sniper said, turning to his lover. 

Spy looked at his hands but they were empty. He raised an eyebrow. 

"Where is it?" 

"Here." Sniper pointed at his lips. "Come and get it,  _ if you're tall enough…" _

Spy's eyebrows jumped before he smirked.

"Oh because you think that I will go on the tip of my toes to try and kiss that lip balm off of your lips and onto mine, hm?"

"Exactly, now, c'mere."

Sniper opened his arms and Spy stood up. He took the step that separated him from his lover and looked up at him with a confident smile. 

"You don't want it?" Sniper asked. 

"Oh I do, but I will make you give it to me." 

"Ha! You wish!" 

"Indeed I do, and I will." 

Sniper watched as his lover undid his tie. He raised an eyebrow. Spy's eyes never left his lover's. He used the tie like a rope and threw one end around Sniper's neck before pulling it down. 

"Oof-!" 

Sniper had bent down under the force and was now at eye level with Spy. 

"Much better." The Frenchman said, satisfied. 

He then put his lips on his lover's and Sniper melted in the kiss. It was slow, and carefully mastered by the Frenchman who not only wanted to show his love to his partner but also to coat his own lips with the lip balm.

Their lips parted in a loud lapping noise and Spy had completely eased off his tie. 

"You are one hell of a kisser…"

"And you realise it only now?" 

"Oh shut up and c'mere…" 

Sniper pulled Spy closer from his waist and as the time passed, the Frenchman found a trail of lip balm from his lips to his neck...


	48. Seduce me!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hello! I was wondering, how about sniperspy version of "seduce me" hehehe "
> 
> So here is my take on a Sniper/Spy version of the iconic "Seduce me!". :)

* * *

"So, what is it you seek with me?" 

Sniper was standing awkwardly in Spy's suite. He was nervously fiddling with his hat between his fingers in front of the Frenchman who looked, on the other hand, as if he couldn't possibly be more comfortable. 

"I uh, I'd like some advice." 

"And you decided that of all the people you could ask, I would be best?" Spy raised an eyebrow. 

Sniper sighed and nodded. 

"Pray take a seat." 

Spy extended an inviting hand and Sniper obliged, albeit on the edge of the armchair. The Frenchman, who wasn't wearing his jacket or vest but only his shirt and tie, took a seat opposite him, on the other armchair. The coffee table separating them as well as the fireplace on Sniper's left, or Spy's right.

"So, how may I help?"

He gathered his fingertips and elegantly put a leg on the other. 

"I uh… Well, there's this…  _ person _ ."

Spy hid his surprise. 

"I… I like them… I'd like to know them better and I don't really know how to, y'know, approach them and start the whole thing." 

"Ah, I see."

Spy nodded slowly.

"So yeah, that's my problem."

"And you are asking me because…?"

"Cause I know you're good with this stuff. And I…"

"And?" Spy repeated.

"And I hoped you wouldn't make fun of me."

Spy smiled but not in an arrogant way, non, not when his colleague had made the effort to come out of his den of a van and be honest with him.

"I will help you." 

Sniper raised his eyes to his masked friend. 

"But you need to know that there is no way to do this without getting out of your comfort zone." The Frenchman said.

"Yeah…"

"I am serious, Sniper, I know you adore your solitude in that van of yours but if you really want to approach someone, you will have to come out of your shell quite a bit. Are you sure that it is what you want?"

Sniper looked left and right. 

"I uh, I'll try."

"That will not do." Spy answered and the Aussie lowered his head, frowning. 

"You need not to try, but to succeed; if you really want that person, that is." 

Spy paused before he added:

"Do you?"

The silence lasted for half a minute or so but for Sniper it was eternity and it weighed on his entire being. He closed his eyes. 

"Spy, I-" Sniper's breath cut on its own. Spy watched with attention. The tension on his colleague's body was visible. “Yeah. I want to."

"Bien, in this case, I first need an idea of what I am working with."

[Good.]

Sniper raised a curious eyebrow. His eyes met with the Frenchman's ice blue ones. 

"Show me what you can do." 

"What d'you mean?" Sniper asked. 

" _ Seduce me." _

Sniper gulped down hard and he felt himself sweat. 

"W-what?" 

"Seduce me." The Frenchman repeated as he moved to sit on the sofa.

"Alroight."

Sniper stood up and adjusted the collar of his red polo shirt. He made sure it was tucked in his trousers and rolled up his sleeves. 

"Roight." He took a deep breath and approached the Frenchman whose eyes were locked on the fireplace. Sniper sat next to his friend, but not too close. 

"Hey." 

Spy turned his head to him. 

"How're you doin'?" 

"Not too bad. Yourself?" 

"Yeah, I-I'm alroight… I think… Uh…" Sniper put a hand behind his neck. 

"You think?" 

"Y-yeah, well, nah, I'm-I'm fine." 

Spy smiled. He knew his colleague wasn't very good with social interactions but he hadn't imagined he would be at a loss that much. 

"You can ask me what I do for work if you don't know it, or what I do outside of work." The Frenchman suggested. 

"Ah, yeah, that's a good idea. So uh, what do you do outside o'work? Got any hobbies?" 

"I collect short blades. I have about three hundred of them. Some I like for personal reasons, others because their fabrication was a work of art in itself. I also like to read." 

"Oh, cool, that's nice, I like knives but I don't know much about them. I just look at them like paintings, I suppose." 

Spy was surprised but didn't let it show. Sniper had continued on the conversation as if collecting hundreds of knives was ordinary. 

"And uh…" The Aussie continued. "What d'you like to read?" 

"French literature. Mainly 19th century authors. I find contemporary authors quite empty and arrogant. I much prefer the man who wrote without knowing that he would be famous hundreds of years after his death."

Sniper had drank his colleague's words like a priceless wine. 

"Oh, wow… That's quite poetic, the way you put it, eh?" 

Spy smiled. 

"I do like it that way, don't you?" 

Sniper blushed and looked away as Spy's eyes were too sharp. 

"Part of me does."

"And the other part?"

"Tries to hide it."

"Why?" 

"Because… I don't think that's what people like in general, eh. Can't be a hunter and a poet. People think huntin' is barbaric but that's because they never tried."

Spy raised an eyebrow and listened as Sniper's eyes locked on the dancing flames in the fireplace. 

"Hunting can be complicated and takes ages. It's not just point and shoot. First you want to attract your target's attention, you want to know it well, understand its behaviour, the patterns painted on its soul. And when you decide to approach, it is to get it but you mustn't do it too soon, eh."

"Otherwise?" 

"Otherwise the target just runs away and you don't want that… Also, when you take your aim and decide that it's the right moment to shoot, your entire body is focused on that one particular target. You hold your breath to steady your aim, your eyes see nothing but the target, your mind think about nothing but the target. Only the target exists." 

Spy tilted his head on the side and the corner of his lips pursed up in a smile. 

"And then you shoot. In a split second, you have taken the target from this life to the next. And God forbid you ever have to shoot twice. Hunting isn't a game and you must treat the target with the utmost respect. There's no point in making it suffer. You want to kill it as cleanly as possible." 

"Tell me, Sniper..." Spy pulled his friend out of his almost monologue. 

"Yeah?" 

"You said that you were ready to make outstanding efforts to get that person, oui?" 

"Yeah." 

"Why?" 

Sniper's eyes lowered slowly. 

"H-they're… special." 

"How so?"

"They…  _ count _ a lot to me." Sniper took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "First, they're gorgeous. They're absolutely stunnin'. I look at them and I can feel my eyes burn when I do, because that's how hard their image gets imprinted in my head."

"Hm." Spy nodded to show he was following.

"And then they're… They're just perfect… Yeah, well, ok, I don't think we go well together and I don't have much hope they'll accept to spend more time with me."

"But?" 

"But I have to do it."

"Why?" 

"Because I can't think about any bloody one else! I wake up and they're the first image that comes to my mind. I work and I can see them in my head all the time, and when I go to bed, I… I just wish they were with me." 

The Aussie sighed. 

"Tssk it's ridiculous. I know it won't work." 

"What?" Spy asked. 

"I'm givin' myself false hopes. I-I'm hoping they could like me but I know they don't and they won't." 

"Sniper." 

He raised his eyes to his friend's. 

"Tell me more about them." 

"What do you want to know?" 

"When you see them, what do you think?" 

"I can't."

"Well if you want me to help you, you will have to help me with that!"

"No, you don't get it."

Spy raised a curious eyebrow. He noticed Sniper was tapping his foot relentlessly on the floor. 

"I can't think when I see them is what I mean. I… I just don't know anything anymore. They're… I'd kill to just have an evening more with them." 

Spy's eyebrow twitched at the "more". 

"And in fact, that's what I do everyday. I kill and kill, hoping they would, y'know, maybe pay a bit of attention to me…" 

Sniper took a deep breath and sighed.

"Sniper, what do you feel for them?" 

Spy's voice was delightfully calm. 

"He has the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. He's gorgeous." Sniper lowered his face and hid it in his hands. "When I see him, nothin' else matters anymore, I just become obsessed, and-and stupid I s'ppose."

"Have you tried talking to him before?"

"Once."

"How did it go?" 

Sniper raised his head again. 

"There wasn't a second that I didn't appreciate. I sat next to him and… It's like I could feel the heat of his body even though I wasn't touching it. I felt hot and sweated b-but I'm so bad with words, Spy, why does it have to be so hard?" 

Spy looked at his friend and smiled. 

"Ah but that is what I meant when I said that you would have to come out of your shell. Engaging with someone is exhausting in truth."

"Even fer you?" Sniper looked him in the eyes briefly.

Spy chuckled. 

"Oui, even for me. But if you feel so strongly for them, I can only understand the torture that is going on inside of you, the constant indecision. Should I, or should I not? Will that get me closer to him, or push me farther? Besides, I did not know you could enjoy the company of men." 

Sniper realised only then that he had been using "he" and "him" the whole time. He blushed so hard he might have blown up.

"Ahem, well, I mean uh…"

"But don't get me wrong, mon ami, far from me the idea to judge. I can appreciate a man's company too."

[My friend]

"Oh, really?" 

"Oui. And, if it is confession time, I will add that there is one that my heart is not insensitive to."

"Oh…"

"Let me tell you more, it might help you…" 

Spy adjusted himself on his seat and cleared his throat.

"I don't recall how I started getting interested in him and I must admit that it surprised me when I realised that I did. You see, I am no stranger to romantic stories and am well versed in it all. Also, rarely have I faced rejection."

"But?" Sniper half guessed. 

"But that man is different. He is so different that I genuinely do not know how to approach him."

Sniper raised a curious eyebrow. 

"Oui, even I don't know so who will? But one thing is for sure, you would never think I could fall for such a man. He is my polar opposite in all aspects and all ways possible and I fear that if I did as much as talk to him, I might ruin it all." 

"Did you try and talk to him or…?" 

"Oui, once. We had a long conversation. Oddly enough, it happened in this very room. I was sitting here and him, more or less where you are now." 

Spy sighed but his lips were pursed in a genuine smile and his eyes were dreamy.

"We had a chat that I wished could last forever. His voice is such a delight to my ears. He doesn't use it often, but when he does, it is such a sweet melody…" 

Sniper blushed seeing how Spy felt. He had never imagined the Frenchman could tell him something that personal, and he seemed honest about it too…!

"Sniper, if I had to describe him, I would say that yes indeed, no one would imagine him and me together. And believe me, it is very hard for me too. I cannot imagine for a second that he would want it either. Of course I do guess that he is not insensitive to my charms but I think that I am lacking what he might be looking for in someone else."

"D'you know if he's into blokes?" 

"Well I did my fair share of research on the man and came to learn very recently that yes, he does not exclude that possibility. What about you?"

"Yeah, same." 

"We are fortunate then." 

"And cowards." Sniper added and Spy's eyebrows jumped. "Cause we're talkin' here on your sofa and not really amounting to much, are we?" 

"Would you be achieving more anywhere else?" Spy asked. 

"N-no, not really, that's true." 

"Then I suppose we are not so cowardly." 

"I guess so… But, Spook, uhm, d-do you… I mean I can't imagine you do eh, but, do you feel like you're dumb when you're around him? I mean I lose my words and-and I stutter a lot more than usual and…"

"Ah, I see what you mean. I might feel so but I have long learned how to control my emotions, so it doesn't really show. Although I feel the soft tingling in my insides, the electricity in the air and in me when my eyes meet his. His eyes are blue, but very different from mine." 

"Ah, same for me. I just have blue eyes but his are… My God, they're somethin' else, when he looks at me I'm so scared that he might see that-"

"That you love him?" 

"Y-yeah… His eyes are so piercing he might as well see through me and behind, as if I was transparent."

“You are fairly easy to read, Sniper.”

“Huh?” He sweated more heavily, feeling put on the spot. “What d’you mean?”

“Let me explain. I think you have said a lot about that man, almost enough for me to know who he is.” Spy grinned smugly.

“W-what? N-no, how?!”

“Correct me if I am wrong.” Spy closed his fist and opened his thumb. “First, the person is a man.”

Sniper nodded.

“Then,” Spy extended his index finger. “You know what job he has.”

The Aussie’s eyes snapped wide. 

“How did you know?”

“You didn’t ask for his job, but his hobbies.”

“Ah, y-yeah.”

“There is also the fact that he knows that you are a hunter at least.”

Sniper lowered his head.

“Add to that the fact that you never go anywhere near people and I do imagine this is your first time out of your beloved Australia, the man you have your thoughts on is in this base or the other one.”

The Aussie’s knee bounced faster up and down.

“Now, I know your professionalism and I do believe he isn’t one of the enemy, which then means that he is in  _ our _ team, is he?”

Sniper hid his face in his hands and shyly nodded.

“Interesting. The man I have  _ my _ thoughts on is also in this team.”

The Aussie’s face flashed up to his colleague.

“W-what?”

Spy wasn’t sure if he saw surprise or disappointment.

“I love him, Sniper. What you describe about the heat of his body, ah… I can only dream about letting my fingers trail his cheeks and entire body, and I did. How many times? Bah, not enough times for me, and sure too many for you who are listening to me. But what else can I do? As you know, I am used to romance but he is so different, so special. I cannot invite him to a restaurant, I cannot take him out for a ride, I… I am condemned to enjoy him like I would a priceless work of art, from a distance, and without doing more than just watching.”

Spy sighed.

“Maybe I am asking too much, maybe I should just content myself with what I have but… My thoughts are stuck on him, his tall and slim silhouette, his beautiful eyes, there is something wild and primitive about him that burns my insides, Sniper…”

“W-wait, he’s on the team and he’s tall and slim. So… That’s not Engie, Heavy, Pyro, Soldier or Scout. You’re taller than them and Heavy’s not slim. That leaves Demo and Medic. But I can’t see how Medic could have something wild about him. Oh bloody hell, it’s Demo?!”

Spy chuckled. 

“I also forgot to say that he is adorably selfless. His smile is rare but when I see it, I can feel flutters everywhere in my chest, as if it contained butterflies that had been kept dormant for too long. Only he can make me feel those things, only the sight of him can do hat. Well, not only the sight. When he blesses me with his voice and his attention, very few words can describe what that generates.”

Spy turned to Sniper.

“It’s Demo, isn’t it…?” The Aussie repeated, with a disgruntled sigh.

“You sound disappointed.”

“N-no, I-I’m just surprised, is all.”

Spy spotted the bad lie as easily as an elephant in a porcelain shop.

“Sniper?”

“Hm…”

“Look at me.”

“I am.”

“Non, in my eyes.”

Sniper took a deep breath and raised his defeated eyes to the Frenchman.

“You forgot someone in the team.”

“No, I didn’t!”

“Yes, you did.”

“Who? Miss Pauling! She isn’t a man, is she?”

Spy chuckled and moved closer to his friend on the sofa.

“Indeed she is not.”

“So it’s not her?”

“Non, it is not.”

“Then who?”

“Look in this very room, do you not see anyone else?”

“Y-you? You can’t be lovin’ yourself, I mean, you can’t find yerself wild, can you? If anything  _ I  _ live in a van and all, so I’m wilder than you and-?”

Spy had nodded which cut Sniper short.

“W-what?”

“You have finally found him.”

“W-wait, who?”

Sniper was sweating bullets as he saw Spy’s gloved fingers rise and soon he felt the velvet against his cheek.

“ _ Toi. _ ”

[You.]

Spy’s dreamy eyes were a sight to behold. He  _ looked _ in love indeed but the Australian couldn’t believe it, so he refused to and frowned.

“I understand I might not be the one that you put in your heart Sniper, and I respect that.” The Frenchman removed his hand from Sniper’s cheek. “I will not trouble you with my feelings again and shall help you talk to whoever you want.”

Spy was annoyed, that was clear enough in his slightly clenched jaw and furrowed brow. But if Sniper needed help, he would oblige.

“So, who is it?”

Sniper’s jaw had dropped and for seconds that felt like eternity for them both, he was incapable of producing any sounds, let alone words.

“Sniper?”

“You love me?” He finally asked.

“I do. Now, can we not dwell on this, as you are obviously looking for someone else.”

Irritated, Spy took his cigarette case out and opened it. He was about to take one when-

“I love you too.”

“What?” Spy’s cigarette case fell off his hands. He stopped sharp and looked up at the Aussie. “You cannot change your feelings that fast. You can fake it, oui, but you cannot enter this room with someone in your heart and exit with someone else.”

“Ya wanker, it’s you I was talking about since the beginning!”

Spy’s eyes flashed with the flames that they reflected from the fireplace.

“You lie very poorly.”

“Oh that’s rich... “ Sniper spat. “One, you’re the bloody Spy here and two, look at me!”

Spy had been busy picking up his cigarette case from his lap and collecting the cigarettes scattered there. He stopped to look at the Aussie.

“I… I…”

“Pathetic. You lie so poorly that you cannot even say it.”

Spy felt his feelings flip like a wave crashing. He went from head over heels for the man to furious, fuming with rage. He clenched his teeth.

“I LOVE YOU!” Sniper shouted and his roar was so powerful, that it startled the Frenchman on his seat, tipping over his cigarette case again. He blushed intensely seeing the Aussie get that loud for the first ever time. His voice had projected so powerfully, he worried that the entire base had heard it.

“I love you, alroight?” Sniper repeated with his usual calm voice this time. “I came here to ask you how I could… Talk to you… And spend more time with you. Yeah, as you said, I don’t do fancy dinners and all that but I love you. I can’t  _ not _ think about you. So I thought of this to spend more time with you. I don’t know what you like, posh stuff I guess, so that was the only way.”

Spy’s eyes were riveted on his spilled cigarette case again on his lap but when his friend finished, he raised his eyes to him. 

“And you were ready to help me get with someone else?” Sniper asked.

“Oui.”

“Why?”

“I want to see you smile, even if I am not the reason for it.”

And Sniper obliged. His face radiated with an innocent, almost naive grin, which Spy reciprocated.

“I’m sorry I’m bad with words…”

“Don’t be, it makes you more charming.”

And with that, Spy leaned on Sniper’s shoulder. They found each other’s hands and slid their fingers through without a word. They couldn’t hear the fire crackle, their heartbeats were too loud.


	49. At the beach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The mercs go to the beach for the day, but Spy is very stubborn and doesn't take off his suit even though he's sweating a freaking lot. Sniper reassures him and convinces him of getting off his clothes. Snipes helps Spy not to feel so selfconcious, so he takes off his clothes and goes into the water with Sniper ❤️❤️❤️"

* * *

"Here we are, luv', look at this, almost as gorgeous as you." 

"Bah…" 

Sniper parked his van and from there, him and his grumpy lover could see the beach and the sea. It was a sunny day off for all the mercenaries and they had decided to make the journey to the nearest coast and get some rest under a parasol. 

"Alright, I'll pop at the back to get a change, wanna follow me?"

"Non, I will wait for you here." The Frenchman answered. 

Sniper sighed sadly at the sight of his lover. He had spent the entire journey with his arms crossed on his chest. Spy had been the furthest one can be from enthusiastic but hadn't refused to join. In truth, the sole reason for his coming along, was to not leave his lover. He would follow him to hell if that was what the Australian wanted.

"Hey there?" 

There was a knock at the Frenchman's window. His lover appeared dressed only in swimming shorts but had kept the hat and the glasses. He was carrying the parasol on his shoulder and a bag in his hand. Spy exited the van and followed his lover.

The Frenchman looked at the expanse of sand and sighed, his shoulders sinking. He removed his shoes and socks and held them in his hand before crossing. 

"Hsss!" 

He hissed at the feeling of the scorching sand underneath his feet. 

"Here…" 

Sniper dropped a pair of flip-flops down. Spy didn't have any choice but to slip them on. 

"Merci." He mumbled but avoided his lover's gaze. 

In a few minutes the parasol was planted and the wicker mat spread. Sniper unfolded a chair for his lover in the shade. 

"D'you mind helpin' me with the sunscreen?" 

"Of course." 

Sniper spread blobs of the oily cream on his arms and sat cross-legged on the mat while his lover put some on the Aussie's back. The rest of the mercenaries scattered across the beach and left the couple on their own. Both Spy and Sniper remained mute for the next few minutes until the Aussie stood up. 

"Wanna get a change and join me? I bet the water's really good." 

"Non merci, you go and have your fun." 

"Alroight. Gimme a shout if you need anythin', ok?" 

"Oui." 

Sniper removed his hat and trusted his lover with it. He looked around him and saw that nobody was watching his way. He put his fingers below his lover's chin and let his thumb stroke his cheek. 

"Don't be sad, luv'."

Spy sighed.

"I am not sad." 

Sniper crouched down.

"You look pissed off, I don't like to see that on you… You look gorgeous when you smile."

Spy gave his lover a half-hearted smile. 

"Alroight, I'll leave you alone. There's water in the bag and some fruits. Keep hydrated, ok? And I love you."

"So do I, now go and enjoy yourself."

Spy turned his head ever so slightly to discreetly kiss his lover's fingers before the Aussie turned and headed to take a swim. The Frenchman watched him from the distance. He noticed some of the mercenaries were playing football on the sand while others were enjoying the warm water with Sniper. 

It lasted hours that felt indeed like eternity itself and thank God Spy had brought a book to read. He could appreciate the length of time spent on the beach by the number of pages he had not managed to read while sat there, drinking water or nibbling on some fruits. His eyes were stuck on someone far more elegant than a mere book.

Eventually, the sky turned pink and the sun's heat toned down. Spy had taken a break from his reading and was enjoying the view. His half naked beloved under a pink streaked sky…

As the temperature slowly dropped from unbearably hot to very hot, more and more people left the beach, leaving only the mercenaries on the sand.

Soon, the Aussie emerged from the water and joined his lover. He wrapped himself in a towel and sat between Spy's legs, eating some apricots. 

"How was your swim?" 

"Great, the water's warm and we had fun with the others. Scout thought he would beat us all in a swimmin' race." 

"And?" 

"I won, but he was close second though." 

Sniper felt a kiss on his wet hair and automatically smiled and blushed. 

"Love you, Spook." 

"I love you too." 

"How was it fer you?" 

"Bah, it was fine. I made some progress in my reading and I had the privilege of a delicious sight." 

"What d'you mean?" Sniper threw the apricot seed away in the sand. 

"I could watch you be half naked all afternoon long."

"You stalker…" 

"Ah, but can you blame me when the view is so delightful? It would be a crime to not appreciate it to its right value." 

Spy put his hands on the Aussie's shoulders and Sniper held them.

"Spook?"

"Oui?"

"You must have sweated bullets under yer suit and mask the entire afternoon…"

"Yes, it was atrociously hot. Thank you for the parasol, though, and the water."

"You sure you don't want to dive in real quick? The water would cool you down, it's lovely." 

"Non, merci."

[No, thanks.]

Silence fell for a second and Sniper finished eating his apricot. He tossed the seed away and turned to his lover. 

"Spook?"

"Oui?"

"Why don't you want to come and have a swim?"

The Frenchman sighed. 

"I… I don't like it." 

"Oh… What's botherin' you about it? I know you aren't too prude."

"With you in the intimacy of my room or your van, non. But in front of everyone, it is another story."

"Tell me." 

Spy looked at the waves gently rolling and spilling, the white froth invading the shore before it retreated softly. The sound of them was soothing but he didn't hear it that way. 

"You know it already. I am covered in bruises, scars, burn marks. My skin is a monstrosity. No one should have to see it." 

"What the hell are you on about…?" 

Sniper was on his knees, facing his lover who was still sitting on the plastic foldable chair. 

"Hey, Snipes!" 

Both Sniper and Spy's heads turned to see Scout coming to them. 

"We're gonna go back to the base. Engie sent me to let you guys know." 

"Ah, alroight mate, thanks." 

"Will you follow us with your van?" 

"Nah, we'll stay a bit longer." 

"Alright, see ya!"

Both nodded and the Bostonian headed back with the rest of the mercenaries. Sniper watched him go and saw that the beach was more or less empty.

"Spook, you're sayin' nonsense." He palmed his lover's cheek and Spy tilted his masked face in Sniper's hand. "You're beautiful… What am I sayin? You're gorgeous and you know it. I'm surprised, actually. You're always so confident about yerself'n all…"

"That is a habit, and a way to protect myself." 

"C'mere." 

Sniper pulled his lover to sit on the wicker mat and he made him lean on his naked shoulder. Spy closed his eyes and took his lover's hand in his. He needed that comfort. 

"So to keep people off you, you just act very arrogant and confident?"

"Hm." 

"No wait, that doesn't make sense. You like bein' the center of the attention, you like havin' people's eyes on you." 

"With you, oui. But need I remind you my job consists precisely of staying out of sight?"

"I know, I know…" Sniper tightened his embrace. "But you really are good lookin', luv'. And look at me, I'm covered in bites and claw marks too. Doesn't stop me from havin' fun. Besides…"

Spy waited for the end of the sentence but it didn't come so he looked up at his lover. He saw his masculine jawline and a drop of seawater fell from his cheek. Sniper's hair was still very wet. He looked down at the Frenchman. 

"I know you liked it…"

"What?" Spy asked. 

"Yer eyes never left me all along. You haven't read a great deal of yer book. Knowin' you, you just used it to hide and watch me." 

Spy unstuck himself from his lover and squinted, at a loss for words. 

"How…?" 

"How did I know?" Sniper finished the Frenchman's sentence with a soft grin. "I'd have done the same if I could've seen ya in yer swimmin' shorts all day… But I wasn't that lucky."

"That's another reason why I didn't follow you." 

"For me not to enjoy the view?" Sniper asked. 

"Non, I… I don't have any swimming shorts or anything…"

"Ah, I don't have any spare either…" 

Spy leaned again on his lover's shoulder.

"Well, there's always another way to do it…" Sniper said and Spy raised a curious eyebrow. The Frenchman's ice blue eyes rose to his lover. "Wanna get a taste of the water?" 

"I wish I could but-"

"Alroight then, c'mere." Sniper cut him and stood up. He pulled his lover up and dragged him towards the shore. 

"Now what?" 

"Now, ye get rid of the flip-flops." 

Spy obeyed. 

"Come with me." 

Sniper took his lover's hand and both stood there, their feet sinking in the wet sand. The warm water lazily hugged their toes, and parted, before coming back again… 

The Aussie went behind his lover's back and, the night giving them cover, he wrapped his damp arms around him. He laid his cheek against the Frenchman's. Spy felt the warmth of his lover's embrace in the desertic beach, under the starry night and couldn't but feel special. 

"Love ya, Spook, I really do."

"So do I, Sniper.  _ Je t'aime."  _

_ [I love you.] _

They remained like this for a while, taking advantage of the tranquility of their surroundings, the rhythmic mellow sound of the waves and of course, the proximity of their bodies.

"Sniper?" 

"Hm?" 

"I… Thank you." 

"Fer what?" 

"Being patient with me." 

"Pfff… What should I say then…? You're one who accepts to keep a bloke like me. I'm not classy, I'm not fancy, and I can be very antisocial."

"That is not what I see in you. You are very sensitive, adorably naive and even shy sometimes. You don't hide your thoughts or think too much, you are very natural,  _ inside and out. _ "

"What's that mean?"

"It means I love you in a way that the sight of you makes me soft and weak. Only you I can trust this well…"

Sniper kissed his lover on the cheek and Spy moaned softly. 

"Wanna swim?" 

"I wish. But as I said, I don't have anything to wear." 

Sniper pushed the waistband of his swimming shorts down and Spy's eyes followed them down as they fell. 

"I don't have anythin' either. Now, wanna swim?" 

Spy's jaw had dropped. 

"What the hell-?" 

Sniper was smiling. 

"C'mon, luv', we don't want the water to get cold." 

Spy undressed and threw his clothes back on the wicker mat. The jacket, vest, shirt and tie flew first, then the trousers and underwear followed. He finished with his mask and carded his hair back quickly. Before he could process anything his feet left the ground and he found himself in his lover's arms. 

"Sniper?!" 

"Shush!" 

The tall Australian man walked towards the line of the horizon with the reason his heart was beating in his arm. He let go of him when the level of the water reached his arms. 

"There we go…!" 

Sniper let go of Spy but found that the Frenchman was still clinging to his neck. They pressed their foreheads on each other's and in the dark of the night, both smiled. 

The Frenchman pushed his lips against Sniper's softly. 

"Your lips are salty." 

"Sorry, luv'."

"It is fine. I am just a bit surprised, it caught me off guard. They are usually very sweet." 

Sniper's grin widened. 

"So are yours." 

He held Spy's head between his palms and kissed him more deeply, feeling the gentle ripples of water stroke his chest and arms. The Frenchman melted under the embrace. 

"Sniper?" 

Their lips had parted with a sweet lapping sound.

"Yeah?" 

"Thank you so much." 

"Fer what?" 

"For being foolish enough to swim naked with me." Spy answered, chuckling at how ridiculous it sounded to him.

"Well, I'm foolish enough to do it in the dark and miss all the show!" Sniper complained. 

"Don't worry. We swim in the sea first, and then I'll make you  _ get all the show _ while you swim on my body. Does that sound fair?" 

Sniper chuckled with his low and gravelly voice. 

"You'd better deliver!"

"Have I ever disappointed you in that regard?" Spy asked. 

"Well…" Sniper teased his lover and it did not miss.

"Well, what? Sniper, non! Don't swim away! Come back here and explain yourself, you coward!" 

"Hahaha! Catch me if ye can ya wild frog!" 

"Wild fr-?! Oh that is it! I'm coming for you!"

Spy dived in and swam in direction of his lover, guided only by the sound of his laughter. 

They spent long hours in the sea on their own, which only felt like a handful of seconds. The next morning found them sleeping in the van, still on the parking lot, as the sound of the seagulls and waves softly woke them up.


	50. The sketchbook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hello again! Hehe another, I was wondering that sniper has also a talent for being uh, artist too. He wants to surprise spy's birthday then he decided to draw his lover. It would be much appreciated or something😉😉😉? "

* * *

Sniper woke up in his van as usual but the first thing that crossed his mind was, on the other hand, far from ordinary. 

He thought about the previous night. 

It wasn't everyday that he managed to have enough  _ social energy _ to stick around the same person, but somehow, with Spy, it didn't feel exhausting at all. Nah, the man was really easy to talk to and spend some time with, oddly enough. 

Sniper slid his hand out of his bed and caught his sketchbook and pencil. He needed to pour his thoughts out of his mind and he had found over the years that drawing what his mind contained was very soothing to his nerves. 

The pencil scratched the paper as the Aussie let his thoughts roam free. 

Spy and him had chatted for a good deal of the night, perched on the van's rooftop, looking at the sky. 

"You know a lot about stars, Bushman." 

"Well, I see them every night. Talk to them almost more than folks."

"What do you tell them?" 

Spy was naturally  _ and professionally  _ curious. 

"I don't know, depends. Sometimes it's just how the day's been, sometimes I'm pissed off so I just tell them about it." 

The Frenchman chuckled. 

"What?" Sniper asked. "Why're you laughin'?"

"I can hardly imagine you  _ pissed off _ , as you say." 

"Well I am sometimes. Y'know when that bastard in a suit likes my back a bit too much… It's tirin'!" 

"Ah, is that how you see us, hm?  _ Bastards in suits?" _

"No offense, Spook."

"None taken, I am just trying to understand the mind of the man who talks to the stars like friends." 

Sniper smiled. 

"There isn't much to understand. I just have barely anyone to talk to and when the day of work's done, I look up and they're always up here."

"They look down at you with their million curious eyes as you tell them about the torments of your soul." 

"Almost sound like a poet, Spook." 

"Sometimes, I do."

Both looked up at the sky. 

"May I try?" 

"What?" 

"Talking to the stars?"

"Yeah, mate, the sky doesn't belong to me, eh." 

"It could, but thanks. In that case…" Spy cleared his throat and as Sniper recalled the events from the next morning, the streaks of lead calmed down on the paper. 

"I would like to tell you, beautiful night suns, about something tonight, if you would be so kind as to lend me your ear. You see, the man who usually talks to you thinks, in his solitude, that he is the only one addressing you when you grace us with your presence. Shall we tell him together that he is mistaken?" 

Sniper remembered how beautiful Spy's voice was. Unlike his usual contemptful and arrogant self, the Frenchman showed softness and gentleness, which caught the hunter sat next to him off guard. 

"Shall we tell him that I too do share my worries and my thoughts with you because I cannot with anybody else? Because sometimes, the only one who can hear me, is you? Because, as most people forget, there is a man made of flesh, blood and emotions behind the mask?" 

He sighed albeit with a smile. 

"Non, my distant bright ones, I think he has locked himself up so long and so hard that he has forgotten what it feels like."

"What?" Sniper asked. 

Spy turned his fair eyes to him. 

"To be accompanied." 

Sniper's lips had parted and a new kind of heat was coiling up inside of him. Spy's eyes went back to the stars and the Aussie did as much, as soon, he felt some velvet between his fingers. Intrigued, he looked down at his hand and saw a thinner gloved one slide in gently. 

" _ Oh…" _

There was a second of doubt, a double take and a million questions before he closed his hand and held the velvet one in his. 

That was what he had been drawing: him and the man his heart felt warm for, sketched on his book as beautifully as it was carved in his white marble memory. 

He sighed and smiled before shutting the sketch book and getting out of bed. He needed a cup of coffee. Sniper dressed up and headed for the base. He took his sketchbook with him. He was used to being the first one up and enjoy his breakfasts alone and undisturbed so he usually took advantage of the situation to draw some more.

He entered the kitchen and shut the door behind him. The Aussie made himself a mug of coffee and sat down. He flipped the pages of his sketchbook until he uncovered a blank page. The pencil came to his fingers naturally and worked between his sips. 

Sniper had dived in the paper and his own mind such that even if an earthquake shattered the world, he would still be at the table drawing and ignoring it all. He filled another page and then yet another one. The sketches filled the book as his mind whirled around one thought…

"Bonjour." 

"Huh?!"

At the sound of the voice with the French accent, the Australian got startled and flipped the book shut. The voice had torn him out of his almost trance and he realised that Spy was sitting in front of him with a cup of coffee. How long had the man been there? God only knew. It might have been seconds, or hours.

"You scared me, Spook…" 

He said, catching his breath and calming his heartbeat down with a hand on his chest. 

"My apologies, that was never my intention."

"How long have you been sittin' here?"

"You don't know?" Spy asked and Sniper lowered his head before gulping down more of his coffee with a grumble. The Frenchman chuckled softly. 

"A few minutes, maybe longer." The Frenchman finally said. 

"So you saw my…?" 

"Your sketches? Non. I was more interested in the artist himself, but if he is willing to share his work, I would be delighted to have a look." 

"I-I don't know…" 

"It is fine." Spy raised his hand. "Far from me the will to push you." 

When it landed back on the table, his hand went to the middle of the table, half-way to Sniper, palm facing up. He was asking something without any words. The Aussie's eyes went to his friend's eyes down along his arm to his open palm. He instinctively put his own hand in and Spy smiled, especially when he saw Sniper blush. 

"I-I can show you my stuff but… Please don't laugh."

"I will not." 

Sniper raised his eyebrows as if to insist. 

"I promise." Spy added.

"Roight." 

He pushed his sketchbook to the Frenchman and put his hands nervously on his mug. 

"I got it when we first joined Mann Co." 

"I see…" 

Spy opened it and took his time on each double page before turning to the next. Sniper's eyes were stuck on the Frenchman to try and see his reactions. Spy looked focused, his brow furrowed and his eyes keenly observing, flying from one sketch to the next. Sniper felt very nervous. Since he had arrived at Mann Co. one man had caught his eye more than the rest. Of course he would! He was very elegant, classy, his voice was a symphony and he had the most beautiful eyes God had ever graced anyone with. 

Even though the sketchbook also had other things here and there, the main model for the hunter, was his masked colleague. Unbeknownst to him, Spy had been drawn at the very least once or twice per page. The poses were different too… 

It seemed that the mute hunter used his eyes very keenly even though he never said it or showed it. 

Suddenly Sniper saw Spy take the pencil and scratch a few things. It intrigued him as he saw him use the rubber at the back of it first before actually drawing. The Aussie tried to see what he was doing but Spy blocked his view with his arm. It lasted for long minutes and Sniper didn't dare interrupt his friend. Finally, he closed the sketchbook and gave it back to the Aussie. 

"You are quite talented." He simply said. 

"I just draw a lot… C-can I see?" 

"But of course." 

Sniper eagerly opened the sketchbook and flipped the pages until the last. He frowned. He remembered having drawn Spy there, his face and shoulders in his usual suit and balaclava but now the drawing was different. The balaclava was gone, the Frenchman had hair, and he looked so handsome with it! The front tuft seemed lighter, like the temples, but he truly looked more like a dream than an actual living man. Sniper's jaw dropped in awe. 

"Is..? Is that you without the…?"

"Oui."

Spy stood up and bent over the table. He put a hand behind Sniper's neck and pulled him in. All the Australian saw was the Frenchman's eyes slowly close before he shut his own eyelids. What he felt after, he couldn't describe. Neither could he draw it.


	51. The baseball game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "G’day! Imagine that Spy, Sniper and Scout now live in the big city, let’s say.. New Mexico, they decide to go on a baseball game, Sniper was nervous because it was one of the first moments they had as Father-Son-Father. Spy calms him down with hugs and kisses. Sniper actually catches the ball and hands it to Scout, Scout for the first times he says to Sniper “Thanks dad!” Sniper was more than happy about it and Spy loved it. And after the game they cuddled in Spy’s and Sniper’s bed as family."

* * *

Spy woke up and found his lover sat up on the bed, his back against the wall. He looked at the time on the alarm clock and frowned. 

"Up already?" He asked. 

"Y-yeah. I couldn't really sleep." 

Spy sat up as well.

"Why?" 

"It's today, isn't it?" Sniper asked nervously.

"What?" 

"That we promised we'd go play baseball with Jeremy together?" 

Spy nodded. 

"Oui, it is today indeed." 

Sniper's eyes were stuck on his own long and thin legs. 

"Is that an issue? Do you want us to postpone it?" 

"No, no, nah… I just uh, I'm just a bit nervous, is all." 

"Ah…" Spy leaned against his lover's shoulder and took his hand. "It will be fine you know. And believe me, you will not be the worst of us three. Last time I played baseball with Jérémy, the ball was the size of his head more or less." 

Sniper nodded.

"Yeah but it's the first time he accepts that I join you guys. I don't want to make it weird or awkward…"

"Well, with your nervousness you are making it exactly that…!" 

Sniper sighed.

"Yeah, I know, I'm sorry… I just don't want to ruin it all and make him not want to invite me again."

"I understand that…" Spy pulled Sniper down and both lied in bed. The Aussie used his lover's chest like a pillow while Spy laid flat on his back. He let his fingers run in the Australian’s brown curls, slowly massaging his scalp. 

"But I am sure that it will go perfectly. You are a much better human being than I am and you make a better father than me." 

Sniper's eyes snapped wide and he raised his head, looking his lover in the eye. 

"Whot?" 

"You are and it is obvious. You are much more compassionate and easy to talk to. I have locked myself in this arrogant and cold image that everyone has of me. Besides, who does Jérémy go for when he needs help or advice? It is always you and then you repeat it all to me. But never has he come directly to me."

Spy was smiling sweetly. 

"I have failed as a father but you on the other hand, you are becoming a very good one and through you, I am learning myself." 

Spy pulled his lover's face closer with his fingers to the Aussie's chin. 

"So now, do not worry about anything and let me kiss you, please." 

Sniper blushed and when their lips touched, he rolled his eyes up in bliss and closed them. He slowly laced his arms around his lover and squeezed him tight. 

"Hm…" Spy moaned but Sniper instantly broke the kiss and his face went as red as a brick. 

"Shh!"

"What?" Spy asked. 

"He's only across the corridor, he could hear us." Sniper answered, whispering. 

Spy chuckled.

"Not when the room is sound-proofed." 

"Y-what now?! You got your room sound proofed?!" 

"Of course. I know I do get quite  _ vocal _ and if I have a guest over, I don't want them to eavesdrop on me." 

"Yeah, especially if yer guest's your son." 

"Indeed." 

Spy rolled and was now towering Sniper on the bed, a hand on each side of his lover's face. 

"But what this means is I can sing whatever melody you create as you play on my heartstrings and no one will hear so please…" 

Sniper smiled and Spy went to his ear. He planted a kiss right below it and moaned, which prompted Sniper to grab the Frenchman's hips firmly.

" _ Let's make this a duet…"  _

\---

"Y'alright, Snipes?"

"Huh? Y-yeah…"

All three of them were on a public park. Spy had brought a basket with fruits and snacks to nibble on while Scout had taken care of the baseball gear. 

"I got my bat and uh… two gloves!" 

"How do you use this thing? It's huge! Also, it is out of any kind of fashion…" Spy said, looking at one glove. 

"It better be huge, Pa', so that you catch the ball easily and even with that it's hard."

Spy had laid a chequered cloth on the grass and put the basket down on it.

"You start playing with Sniper while I ready the snacks."

"Alright. Snipes, wanna have the bat or…?"

"Nah mate, you can have it, I'll try and catch the ball but eh, don't hit it too far!"

"Okay, I'll try." 

Spy watched both of them play. Sniper would throw the ball at Scout and the young man would hit it as gently as he could. 

"Snipes, yo, let me tell you cause you're not throwin' it right."

"Ah, y-yeah, sorry, I'm-I'm really tryin' but I was never good with that so…"

"It's fine, look, gimme the ball, right…" 

And the Frenchman watched as Scout explained the art of throwing a baseball to Sniper who looked intensely focused on the task at hand." 

"Roight, roight, I see…"

"Gentlemen, may I join?" 

"Sure."

"Yeah!" 

The game was now for Sniper to throw the ball at Scout who would hit it in direction of Spy. And it worked pretty well for a while. 

"Wanna hit it, Dad?" 

Spy raised his head and saw that Scout was addressing Sniper and not him. But the Aussie didn't recognise himself. The Frenchman chuckled. 

"I will take a break. My old age requires me to sit down a bit."

Scout understood that it was Spy's way of leaving them alone for this. 

"So, Dad? Daad?"

"Huh?" 

Sniper raised his head. 

"W-wait? You were callin' me?"

"Yeah! Wanna hit the ball and I throw it for ya?" 

Sniper's face turned crimson and felt his knees wobble. 

"I… I don't know… I mean, uh, ahem, c-can I? I mean, you sure you want me to do it?"

"As you wish, really! Or we can join Pa'?"

"Ah y-yeah, maybe let's join him for a quick break, alroight?" 

"Sure!"

Sniper walked to his lover and collapsed on the cloth next to him. Spy noticed it and held back a laughter. 

"Fruits?" He offered and threw Scout a banana and started cutting a peach to share with Sniper. 

They took a moment to eat and drink before Scout stood up. 

"Imma have a look around the park, who wants to join?" 

"Non merci, Jérémy, I could do with a bit more rest." 

"Dad?" 

Sniper was astounded such that he looked petrified. Spy answered for him. 

"He will stay with me."

"Okay, see ya in a bit!"

Spy was used to his son needing to move and spend his energy all the time but him and Sniper were older and better enjoyed the peace and quiet. When the young man was out of earshot, Spy turned to his lover. 

"Mon amour, ça va?"

[My love, are you alright?]

"I… He called me Dad…" 

"Oui, he did."

"I'm a… Dad?"

"Oui, you are.”

"Am I?"

Spy looked around and saw a few people here and there but they were too far to see them clearly. He held his lover's hand. 

"I told you. You are  _ his father  _ and  _ a good father.  _ No doubt you are his  _ best _ one too. I am actually surprised he calls  _ you _ father after me…"

"Bloody hell, I'm a Dad…" 

Sniper laid down and used his lover's lap as a pillow. Spy was surprised by the public display of affection from his shy Aussie. He nonetheless did not complain. 

"Did it hit you like that…?" Sniper asked. 

"What?" 

"The first time he called you Dad?" 

"He doesn't call me Dad, he calls me Pa',  _ you  _ are Dad."

"I am Dad…" Sniper repeated overwhelmed by the sudden realisation. He both felt overjoyed and overwhelmed by the responsibility. All of a sudden, he had someone's life in his hand and it wasn't through a scope…!

"Oui, you are." 

Spy continued feeding his lover and himself the peach and soon after they finished, Scout emerged again. 

"How was it?" Spy asked. 

"Yeah, it was alright. They aren't too many people around either so it's pretty calm." 

"Ah, nice." 

"Mind if I join?" 

Scout pointed at Sniper and Spy nodded.

"Please do." 

The Frenchman was sitting on the cloth he had laid, his legs fully extended in front of him, and he had one hand through Sniper's hair. The Aussie's head was on his lover's lap and his eyes blinked slowly under the head massage. Scout laid down and also used his father's lap as a pillow but on the other side from Sniper. 

"Jeremy?" Sniper said. 

"Yeah?" The young man answered.

Spy watched it all happen. 

"Thanks for the baseball lesson." 

"Haha, no problem, man. You're pretty good at it."

"Am I?" 

"Yeah, much better than Pa'." 

"Hey!" Spy exclaimed and both Sniper and Scout laughed. 

"No offense, but Dad's better." 

Spy smiled. He looked at Sniper. 

"See? I told you you were  _ better _ ." 

The Aussie turned as red as a brick and grinned shyly. He knew that what Spy meant was not  _ 'better at baseball' _ , but  _ 'better as a father.' _


	52. Beer festival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hello again mate 😄, how about sniper&spy being to drunk at an event"

* * *

"Remind me why I am following you to this exhibition of drunkenness."

"It's called a beer festival, you snob, and I'm takin' you there cause remember a few weeks ago?" 

"The wine tasting?"

"Yeah, that show of posh people who don't even  _ drink _ the thing… Bloody idiots, they taste it and spit it away."

"It is to not get drunk! What do you expect? You wanted them to drink it all and not being able to taste anything anymore?!"

"I don't know, it's just dumb! You taste stuff and throw it away! Would it kill you to swallow it?"

"How would you know?"

Sniper looked at his friend, intrigued, as the tone of his voice was definitely more suave than was necessary, but he soon caught the innuendo.

"Spook!"

The Frenchman laughed seeing how red his friend's face turned.

"Oh, also, here it is." 

Sniper parked the van and both stepped out. There was some music and people were swarming the wide field. Sniper started walking and Spy naturally followed his friend. The stands were colourful and as the end of the afternoon came, the lanterns switched on everywhere. 

Spy looked up at his taller friend. He saw the reflection of the million lights on his glasses and on the hunter's blue irises. Sniper felt observed and as they walked through the busy crowd, he looked down and saw the Frenchman's eyes open wide. 

"Y'alroight?"

"O-oui. I just don't like the crowd…"

Sniper was about to tell him that it was a poor lie but the Frenchman cut him.

"And when are we finally going to taste some beer? Or maybe this whole show is just to get drunk and not actually enjoy yourself?"

"Alroight, alroight, mister impatience… I wanna see if they have anythin' from Australia."

"Missing home?" 

"Yeah, nah, I want you to try it."

They moved around searching for a stand with an Australian flag or anything of the sort. 

"You think I will appreciate it?" Spy asked. 

"Oi, don't say it like you won't!" 

Spy chuckled. 

"Non, you misunderstood me, my question was genuine." 

They took a turn and Sniper looked down at his friend. 

"You? Genuine?"

"Oui, why do you sound so surprised?" 

"Are you kiddin'? You're the bloody Sp-mh?!" 

Spy swiftly turned and put his gloved hand on Sniper's mouth. 

"Oui, I know, but no else apart from you and I here need to." 

Sniper relaxed and nodded, which prompted Spy to removed his hand off of his mouth. 

"Sorry for the inconvenience. You did not leave me any choice."

"It-it's okay."

Spy's eyes shot up at the taller man who instantly looked away. The Aussie didn't want his friend to see the blush on his cheek. But as he turned his head, something caught Sniper's eye.

"Oh, look here, Australian flag!" 

Spy saw his friend's face beam up with a smile as he quickened his pace towards the stand. When they arrived, Sniper removed his hat and looked at the selection of beers. Spy smiled as he thought that Sniper would have looked the same a couple of decades ago in front of a candy shop. 

"So, Bushman, what would you recommend?" 

"Depends on what you like." 

"I will take the same thing as you do." Spy answered. 

"Alroight…!" 

A minute later they were walking through the crowd again, a bottle of Australian beer each in their hands. 

"Very different from the European ones I have tried." Spy said. 

"Is it?"

"Have you never had a German beer?" Spy asked. 

"Nah, tried an American one once, and it was awful. It had no taste and no alcohol. I mean it's a beer, so yeah, it should be light, but that one was straight water." 

"You know, I cannot disagree with you on that one…" Spy answered. 

"And you almost sound disappointed about it!"

The Frenchman chuckled. 

"Almost so indeed! Although, do remind me to make you try one, and a Belgian one too, those are a gem."

"Look at you knowin' beer almost better than me, eh?" Sniper teased. 

"I think I just know how to appreciate what I put in my mouth, unlike you." 

Sniper stopped walking and the Frenchman turned to him to ask why. 

"How would you know?" The Aussie quoted the Frenchman and Spy rolled his eyes up with a smile. 

"I see you are quoting the greatest mind of this century…" 

The Frenchman turned and started walking.

"Show off…!" 

Sniper nudged him gently and they both laughed before going back to their journey across the world… through beers. They hopped from one stand to the next, like bees from one flower to the other although, in their case, they were not gathering pollen, but alcohol. If the first few ones were inoffensive, they both started to feel the effect of the intoxicating liquid soon enough. 

"Oh my God, Spook…!" Sniper said between two laughters. "I can't leave you two seconds, can I?"

"What?"

The Aussie had gone to find the toilets and in a few minutes, the Frenchman was on a bench and had found the way to surround himself with two women. 

"Oh, is that your friend?" One of them asked Spy. 

"Oui, indeed, a very good friend, but don't be fooled,  _ Mesdemoiselles, _ he and I are very different." 

[Ladies.]

"Oi, don't say it like that! Ladies, look, I'm sure you find him posh and elegant and all that  _ but _ he's as snob as all hell, believe me, he's not worth it!"

"First, I am not snob, I have manners." Spy started. "And second, how would  _ you _ know that I am not worth it, hm? Have you  _ tried  _ me maybe?" 

"God no!" Sniper answered, with a disgusted face.

"Well maybe you should! That would teach you a thing or two about how to approach ladies!" 

"What did I do wrong?! I barely said anythin' to them!"

"Exactly." Spy coldly answered and the ladies chuckled. He took their hand, one by one and left an elegant kiss on them. " _ Mesdemoiselles,  _ I am sorry for my friend's rudeness. He is a bit…  _ wild. _ "

"Whot?!" Sniper asked, raising his arms up before dropping them.

Both women chuckled and left a kiss on the Frenchman's cheek before they went away, exchanging winks with the man in the suit. When his eyes fell on him, Sniper saw Spy undo his tie and open the two first buttons of his shirt. 

"They got you warm, eh?" 

"Non, not them." Spy put his tie in his jacket's pocket. 

"The beer then?" 

They walked from the bench they were on to deeper in the crowd.

"It is indeed getting to my head. And all this music and noise…! I feel like I need to shout for you to hear me!"

"That's because you do!"

The booming volume of the music was deafening and they were both walking not too far from the blasting speakers.

"This is unbearable Sniper!"

"I… I kinda agree with you actually, and it's getting quite late, wanna head back?!" He answered shouting as well. 

"Yes, please!" 

They both nodded to each other and came back to the van. It was far enough for them to talk at a reasonable volume, but not enough to dampen the bass booms. They could hear them distantly. 

"Mate…"

"What?" 

"I don't think I should drive, eh…"

"Oh mon Dieu…" Spy put a hand on his face. "Are you telling me that we are blocked here until either you or I sober up enough to drive?" 

"Nah…" 

"What then?" Spy asked. 

"It's until  _ I  _ sober up, mate. Don't you even dream of driving her around."

" _ Her?!  _ It's a van!" 

"Oi! She drove me everywhere I needed to go so far!" Sniper answered.

"Oui, until now, where she is just leaving you here, huh?"

"It's not her fault I'm shit-faced!"

"Indeed, it is yours." 

"And yours!" Sniper added.

"What?! What have  _ I _ got to do with you being drunk?  _ You  _ took me to this festival of beers!"

"Yeah well, the German and Belgian ones weren't my idea!" 

"Non, but what about the half a dozen Irish and English ones?!"

"Ahhh…" 

Sniper sighed and unlocked his van's back door. Spy watched as he saw him exit a few seconds later with a pillow and a duvet. 

"Will you sleep outside?! What is wrong with you?!" Spy asked. 

"Well unless  _ you _ wanna take the roof, ya wanker...!"

"Take the roof?"

Sniper climbed up the van's roof top and rolled himself in the duvet. 

"Sniper?!"

His head peeked out and down to the Frenchman. He had removed his hat and glasses. 

"You have the bed inside. I'll take a nap and when I'm sober, I'll drive us back to the base."

The Aussie rolled back and Spy felt the van shake under the movements of the tall man looking for a comfortable position to rest. Sniper closed his eyes but he distinctly heard his friend enter the van and move inside. 

_ Yeah well, good night to you too, ya Spook... _

Sniper's breath calmed down but Spy was making an awful lot of noise for a man paid to sneak around, and why was it getting louder and louder?

"Bushman?"

"Huh?!"

Sniper's eyes snapped wide when he felt his colleague's very breath on his ear. 

"What the hell are you doin' here?! I told you you could have the bed!"

Spy was sitting on the rooftop, next to the Aussie. 

"I don't feel sleepy." 

"Oh so I shouldn't sleep either?" Sniper asked. 

"As if you could." Spy answered, unfazed. 

"Ugh, bloody Spook, I swear…" Sniper sat up next to his colleague. 

The night was warm as it was now the middle of summer and both of them could see quite clearly in the night, the moon being full. The festival was clearly visible with its dancing mutlicolor light and general noise.

"What now? We just wait to sober up awake?" Sniper asked.

"Here." 

Spy placed two glasses between their thighs and poured some water. 

"Ya thief." Sniper said chuckling, as he realised the Frenchman had helped himself in the van. 

"You're welcome." Spy answered with a smile. 

They tipped their glasses and drank. 

"Maybe you are right about your van." Spy admitted. 

"What d'you mean?" 

"Maybe she does take you where you need to go." 

"To this festival, with a burden of a bloke in a suit…" Sniper turned and realised that Spy had removed his jacket, tie and vest. "Well, what's left of the suit anyway."

Both chuckled under the moonlight. 

"Well it is quite warm even in the night and all this…  _ racket _ , it tired me and you got me walking quite a bit." Spy answered.

"Yeah, and the sheilas… If I wasn't there, would you seriously have gone back home with both?!" 

Spy laughed. 

"If I wanted, oui."

"And  _ I  _ am the one without manners, eh?" 

Their glasses were empty and this time Sniper filled them. 

"What does it have to do with manners?" Spy answered. "Non, I am merely the victim of my own success." 

"Arrogant wanker."

"Wild idiot."

They tipped their glasses and felt the fresh water dilute the poison they had downed before.

"Although…" Sniper started. "Maybe you're right."

"About what?" 

"Maybe you are the victim of yer success, I mean, sheilas like a bloke in a suit and tie. Add that French accent of yours and they fall like flies around ya, don't they?"

Spy rolled his eyes. 

"Such a poet you are, Sniper." 

"Oh, you know what I mean." 

"I do. And you are right, I do have my successes with the… what do you call them again? Shy-lah?"

"It's  _ sheila _ ."

"Where is the difference?" 

"Everywhere?!"

They looked at each other and laughed. Spy nudged Sniper with his elbow. 

"I am pulling your leg, Bushman." 

"Bloody well hope you're jokin', yeah."

"Although…" Spy started. "I know for one that  _ you  _ wouldn't."

"I wouldn't what?" Sniper asked. 

"You wouldn't have gone home with the two women."

"Yeah, well, I think one's enough!" Sniper chuckled. 

"Non, you misunderstood me." 

The Aussie raised an eyebrow at the serious tone of his friend. 

"What d'you mean?" He asked.

"You barely looked at them. Despite their beauty and their, well,  _ certain shapes and arguments _ , your eyes where not on them, hardly ever." Spy answered and put his empty glass a bit further away. 

Sniper blushed and hoped his friend hadn't seen it. 

"Well, you might like them like that, they're not really my type…" 

"Ah," Spy pretended to believe the lie, "What is your type, then, if I may ask?"

"Y-yeah, sure, uhm, I like them…Thin, a bit shorter than me, uhm, let me see…"

"Blond or brunette?" Spy asked. 

"Doesn't really matter, I can like either. And uh…"

"Sniper?" 

"What now?" He answered, annoyed as he was trying to lie but knew he was failing miserably. 

"You know I am very familiar with half-truths and lies, oui?" 

"Y-yeah…" 

Sniper understood that Spy knew he was lying. 

"But what's your type then, eh?"

The Aussie watched as the Frenchman stole his pillow and laid down comfortably. 

"Oi-!"

"Don't complain, I could have stolen much more than just your pillow!" 

"Ugh…" Sniper sighed, exaggerating his annoyance when in fact, he found it half amusing and half soothing. Spy seemed much more humanly when he laid down somehow, it made him more simple in a way. 

Sniper laid on his side, his head propped up on his hand.

"So, yer type?"

"Well, I prefer dark hair over fair, I have a weakness for natural charms, more than for beauty in itself and above all, I like my partner to have something I cannot describe. It's that kind of charm that they wouldn't show to anyone else but me; the reason why no one can understand that I have fallen for them, but me."

Sniper had fallen silent. 

"You almost talk like you have someone in mind and you can see them in yer head." 

Spy's eyes were riveted on the starry sky. They turned and met Sniper's. 

"Hm, I see you are less of an idiot than I thought, I indeed have my heart set on someone."

"Spook…" Sniper complained at the insult. 

"Do you?" 

The Aussie blushed. 

"Ah, well, uh, kinda, yeah, I-I think."

"You are not sure?" Spy asked. 

"I-I don't know."

"Tell me about it, I am intrigued." Spy rolled on his side and looked up at the Aussie better.

"What d'you want me to say?" 

"Maybe start by describing them." Spy suggested. 

"I doesn't matter what they look like and in fact uh… I don't know how to say this but uh…"

"Just say it, I won't mock you."

"Why wouldn't you?" 

"Because this is clearly something that you feel strongly for. I am sure you are blushing and sweating bullets as we speak and yet you still push this conversation against your fears to be honest with me. I respect that greatly." 

Sniper smiled.

"Thanks. So yeah, in that case uh… I-I don't really know what they look like…"

"You have fallen for a voice? Please don't tell me it's the Administrator…!" Spy jokingly said and both chuckled. He had just wanted for Sniper to ease up a bit. 

"Nah, nah, it's not her. But yeah, the uh…  _ person _ that I like, I didn't only fall for his voice, although, yeah, it's amazin'. But uhm… It's just because they manage to make stuff that I thought was hard very easy."

"Give me an example please, I don't really understand."

"Ah, yeah, so like, talking for example. I mean you know me, I'm not big on discussions but they make me talk without me feeling that I should shut up because what I'm sayin' is stupid. I actually enjoy talkin' with them, a lot, it-it's crazy…" 

Spy smiled. 

"What about you, what's yer sheila like?" Sniper asked.

"Unlike any other one I have met before."

"Ah, they always make it feel like that, eh?" 

"Non Sniper, I mean it. He is unlike any woman I have met before because he is a man." 

"A man?! You?! You like blokes?!" 

"I do, oui." Spy answered, unfazed. 

"I'd have never thought…!" 

"Neither have I." The Frenchman said with a smile. "But he makes me feel so strongly for him that I cannot possibly believe that it is mere friendly love that I have in my heart for him." 

"Woah, Spook… I didn't know you, uh…"

"Does that change anything to you?" Spy asked. 

"N-no, I mean, you do you, eh…" 

"Try again." 

"What?" 

"I said try again." 

"What's that mean?!" Sniper asked and Spy chuckled. 

"It means that you lie almost painfully badly."

The Aussie rolled his eyes and sighed. 

"Does it change anything to you that I have a man in my heart?" Spy asked again. 

"K-kinda." 

"Sniper…?"

"Alroight, yeah, it does! It changes bloody everythin'!" 

"Why?" 

"Cause…" 

The Aussie sat up and wrapped his arms around his flexed knees. 

"Cause I like a bloke too…" He finally admitted, muttering to himself.

"I see." Spy answered. "Do I have the privilege of knowing him?" 

"Y-yeah. And me, do I know who you fancy?" 

"Oui." 

"Ah, ok." 

Silence fell. 

"Sniper?"

"Hm?"

"Never have I seen you  _ that _ nervous before. You are trembling next to me and I can almost hear your heartbeat from here." 

And those words didn't help the Aussie who buried his head against his thighs. Spy sat up and poured some more water in his friend's glass. 

"Here, take this and relax." 

Sniper raised his head just enough to see a glass hovering next to his head. He took it and drank to clear his throat that he felt had gone dry. 

"You know, as much as I enjoy teasing you, I do respect you, Sniper. You should not feel as if I was judging your every word because in truth, I am not. I am merely providing an ear to a friend who needs it." 

Spy pushed the pillow back to his friend and when Sniper finished drinking, he took the glass away from him and pushed him to lie down.

"Thanks, Spy."

"I will not force you to tell me more about the man who keeps you up at night, but I can tell you about mine if you want."

"Yeah."

Spy looked down at the Aussie and smiled. He lied on his side and propped his head on his hand as he looked into Sniper's eyes. 

"The man I love, he has no idea that I could feel a shred of anything for him. He maybe even doubts that I can truly love. I wish I could tell him and he could believe me."

"What would you say?" Sniper asked. "It's crazy hard to say things like that, Spook."

"I know. But if I had the courage, I would be honest with him. I would tell him that he is the reason why I wake up a bit earlier in the morning, if it means that those few more minutes, I can enjoy the sight of him. I would tell him that he keeps me up at night, in the intimacy of my thoughts, before I close my eyes and lose my grip to reality."

Spy's eyes never left Sniper's as if he could see on his pupils the picture of the man his heart was beating for. 

"I would tell him that dreaming of him is the most exquisite torture, because it makes me spend more time with him when I normally wouldn't, saying words and doing things that I am in fact way too cowardly to do in the conscious world."

Spy chuckled. 

"How many times have I told him that I loved him in my dreams? Everytime I see him. How many times have I told him that I loved him in real life? Never. How many times have I dreamt of feeling his arms around me, sharing a surreal embrace? And how many times have I been brave enough to feel his touch on me, his hands, his lips…?"

The Frenchman sighed and looked down at the space between him and his friend. 

"I wish I could mean love as well as I can fake it."

"What do you mean?" Sniper asked, finally gathering the strength to speak after his friend's powerfully earnest speech. 

"With those two women earlier, I couldn't care less about them, and yet if I wanted, I could have got them both to follow me to the moon and back. And I am not saying this out of arrogance."

"I know. You sound… different, now." 

"How so?" Spy asked. 

"I can feel it. Y-you're bein' very serious. I wish the bloke I like could like me the way you describe it."

"Pff…" Spy chuckled and Sniper realised that he was in fact mocking himself for some reason. "Well…" 

The Aussie thought there was something else in that sentence, but it never came out. 

"It is the most cruel and yet the most beautiful thing too, non? Falling in love with someone and them not feeling the same for you."

"You sure he doesn't?" Sniper asked. "I mean I say that you're arrogant all the time but clearly some people out there don't mind it, or even like it. And you got your way with people."

"I can fake it very well, oui. I can play this wild comedy where I go around and seduce anyone, but not with him. I treasure what little friendship I have with him too much to risk it." 

"Ah, well, same." 

"Really?"

"Yeah but… I mean I'm not good with words and people. I'm not good with words  _ for _ people either and I'm a disaster when it comes to talkin' about my feelings."

"You haven't done too bad so far." Spy said. 

"Yeah, well, it's a miracle I'm not trippin' over my words and stutterin' like an idiot."

Sniper sighed before resuming his speech. 

"I do understand though and I feel the same. He's a friend, the bloke I like, or at least I hope he sees me like that and uh… I don't want to risk telling him the truth and losing my only friend. In any case, I'm way too shy to confess so I'll just stay in my place and wait."

"For what?" Spy asked. 

"I don't know. But I can't tell him, I can't show him and maybe it's better that way, eh. Better have a friend for sure than maybe something more or nothing at all."

"Is it though?"

Sniper raised his eyes to look at his friend's. 

"I understand what you mean obviously as I am doing the same thing but, sometimes I have this rush of madness and this voice inside of me that screams that I should tell him. Oui! Tell him! How hard can it be? It's only a few words…!"

"But?" Sniper anticipated. 

"But if I were to lose him, I would lose so much. It is the fear of losing what little I share with him that holds me back and…"

Sniper watched as his overconfident friend was again censoring himself.

"And?" He asked, almost whispering.

"And makes me a coward." Spy said. "Again and again, day after day. A coward and a liar. Oui, I know I am a spy and I lie all the time, oui, that is part of my job and I am paid for that. But I am only paid to lie to the people on the opposite team, not to him. And I hate having to lie to him."

Sniper could almost solidly grasp the distress in his friend's voice. He sat up and pushed the pillow towards Spy. 

"Non." 

Spy pushed the pillow back. 

"I… I cannot continue like this, I will find a way to go back to the base." The Frenchman said and turned back to get down to the ground.

"What?!" Sniper asked. 

"Forgive me for my being impolite but I can't continue, not like this." 

Sniper frowned and leapt back to grasp his friend by his arm and hold him back.

"Hey…" 

Spy turned to look at him. 

"What?" 

"We can talk about somethin' else, we-we can do somethin' else but please, Spy, stay… And how the hell are you gonna make it back to the base anyway? Anyone you could ask for a ride now is more drunk than we've been, combined!"

Spy sighed. 

"Don't hold me back like this, please." 

Sniper opened wide eyes as his friend looked away. Spy's voice sounded so different, so emotional, that it seemed it didn't belong to the masked backstabber Sniper knew.

"It only hurts more." 

The Aussie would have let go of anyone else, but not Spy. 

"No." 

The Frenchman's eyes darted back to Sniper's in a flash. 

"It's not safe out there." The Aussie said. 

"Need I remind you that I am a mercenary and I am armed?"

"Doesn't matter." Sniper tightened his grip on Spy's arm. "I'm not lettin' you go away and risk it."

"Why do you have to make it so difficult? As if I needed it to be harder!" Spy tried to push Sniper's hand away but to no avail. He sighed. 

"Sniper I  _ cannot  _ sit next to you longer."

"Why?" 

"Because-! Ugh, nevermind… I will stay." 

Spy sat next to his friend again but the silence hurt them both. The Frenchman felt guilty for causing such a nice moment to break, and Sniper felt awkward for not knowing how to deal with it. 

"Spy-"

"Sniper-"

They had both talked at the same time. 

"Go ahead, Spook."

"Non, please, after you."

"I don't even know what I wanna say."

"So why did you-?"

"I don't know…"

Silence fell again. 

"So yeah, go ahead, Spook."

"I do apologise for making this awkward." 

"Bah, I'm not helpin' either, am I?" 

Spy looked at his friend and seeing his smile chased away the sadness in his heart. 

"Non, you are not."

"Pfff…" 

They both chuckled. 

"The truth is," Spy said. "That I felt the urge to tell him the truth."

"What?"

"It was a fleeting moment of utter madness but I thought for a second that I could tell the man I love the truth. So I decided to go." 

"Oh, sorry, go ahead and tell him, Spook, I-uh, well, I'd have driven you there myself but I still can't." 

"Non, you misunderstood me."

Sniper raised his eyes and when he heard Spy gulp down hard, his eyebrow twitched. Something was wrong. 

"I did not want to go  _ to _ him to tell him. I wanted to go  _ away _ from him to stop myself before I told him the truth and ruin it all but…"

Spy's eyes lowered down. He was looking for his words as if the wrong one would fall on his neck like a guillotine and end him. 

"But he… He held me back." 

Sniper frowned. 

"What d'you mean Spook? I-I've lost you there." 

"Sniper, the man I love, I wanted to run away from him but he just held me back." 

"When the hell did that happen?!" 

"Just a second ago. He… Sniper…" 

"Spook, you're way more drunk that I thought…"

"Non, you idiot, why don't you understand me!" 

"Cause you're bloody confusin'!" 

"Pay attention, Bushman!"

"I am, you wanker! Just tell me very simply!" 

"Ugh, you want simple?! Is that really what you want?! Really?!" 

"Yeah! Make it clear and simple, bloody hell, how hard can it be?!" 

"Well, just about as hard as saying I love you!" 

"Yeah, well at least you're not sayin' I love you!"

"I just did!" Spy's voice jumped an octave.

"Yeah but what did you wanna run away for?!"

"I've just told you, you  _ imbécile!" _

"No, ya haven't!" 

"Do you ever, in your life, pay attention to what people say to you?!" Spy furiously asked.

"I bloody am! What is it?!"

"I love you!"

Sniper stopped sharp and blinked repeatedly, his eyelashes fluttering as the words hit his head. 

"What…?! Quit messin' about!" 

"I am not! Ugh…" Spy sighed, annoyed. 

Both took a second to let the sound of their voice ripple away from them and diffuse in the air.

"What's the matter?" Sniper asked gently. 

"The man I love."

"Yeah?" 

"It's you, Sniper."

"It… It can't be true, surely you're lyin'."

"See? This is exactly what I told you I feared, that even if I told him, he wouldn't believe me. And why is it so hard for you to accept this? I am not asking that you love me back, I just want you to believe me when I say it."

"Because… I uh… Well…" 

Spy raised his eyes to his friend. 

"At this point, Sniper, just say it. It can't be harder than me confessing my feelings to you."

"Well…"

"Well what?" 

"I uh… I kinda… Ahem… me too." 

"You too what?" Spy asked. "My turn to ask you to be clear."

"The bloke I love…"

"Oui, what about him?" Spy asked impatiently,  _ or jealously _ , maybe even both, Sniper couldn't tell. 

"I also… Dream about him. In my dreams, he loves me too and uh… the reason why I don't know what he looks like is because…"

"You can't see his face clearly in your dreams?" 

"Yeah but… Even in real life, he always hides his face b-but I've seen his eyes and…"

Sniper looked away. He couldn't withstand Spy's eyes on him. 

"He has gorgeous eyes, very light blue and… Spy, the lips that you have…! Huh-fuck?!"

Sniper smacked his own hand on his mouth and closed his eyes. 

"Sniper, did you just say…?"

"Bugger… Well I guess I can't make it clearer now, can I?" 

Silence fell and Sniper slowly turned his head to face the man his heart had been secretly beating for. 

"Non, but you can test it…" 

Sniper's eyes fell on Spy's lips and his own parted. He shyly bent a bit on his side and Spy did the same, his fair eyes seeing that what the Aussie wanted, he wanted it too.

Their lips met. 

Under the booms of the distant concert and the one of the proximity of their racing hearts. 

They laced theirs arms and their hands as they both fulfilled a dream that they were adamant would only remain a dream.

Non, nah. Their hearts were louder that the festival's speakers.

"I love you…" Sniper whispered as he pushed Spy to lie down, between two kisses. 

"I love you too…" He heard the French accent sing back. 

And no one slept on the bed in the van. They both remained on the rooftop, Sniper lying on the pillow and Spy using his shoulder like one, as he peppered kissed on his tall lover's neck. 

_ "Je t'aime."  _

_ [I love you.] _

He whispered and Sniper smiled.

"I never thought I'd hear you say it in real life." 

"Have you heard it in your dreams before?" Spy asked. 

"Yeah."

"In French?" 

_ "Oui, mon amour." _

[Yes, my love.]

The accent was off but Sniper's words hit Spy seriously as he clenched his grasp on his lover's chest and he slid a leg between his. Sniper bit his lip. Hearing Spy moaning on him was something he hadn't dreamed about before it really happened.


	53. Bottom Spy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "So this is my first time to request NSFW , hardcore/rough sex bottom spy please 🥺 "

* * *

They were furious. 

Sniper and Spy had quarrelled and over what you ask? Over whether or not the bread should be stored in the fridge… 

It was pathetic of both of them to have got that worked up against each other for so little but there they both were. 

Spy was outside. He had decided to use his rage to do things that he hated anyway and his heart had set to the laundry. He was in the garden and putting the wet clothes to dry on a line. 

Sniper was on the porch trying to read but of course his eyes would scan the letters on the paper without his brain converting them to any meaning. In that sense, the book could have been in Chinese and the Aussie would have understood as much. 

Annoyed by it, he raised his eyes and stared at Spy who was giving his back to him. Why did it have to take such ridiculous proportions…? Because it as about food and one hating wasting it as much as the other hated treating it in a way that would make it lose any slight amount of flavour. Both men were stubborn enough to have managed the feat of fighting over where a bit of bread should go… 

Sniper stared at his lover, his insides still boiling with rage. Spy was casually dressed. Well,  _ as casually as he could _ , which meant that he wore a white shirt without a vest or tie, and a pair of dark blue trousers that followed the shape of his behind and thighs quite closely before getting wider on the legs. Sniper's eyes were riveted on his lover's small backside without realising it. It wasn't big, no, but he loved it anyway, its shape always perfectly met with the Aussie's palm… 

Spy finished with the clothes. He collected the now empty basin and turned. As he did so, he saw Sniper's eyes dart upwards to his face, flushed, and them down again on his book. The Frenchman got closer to the porch and purposefully slowed down as he passed his lover. Sniper raised his eyes and lagoon blue met ice grey. They gazes crossed, locked and stared, as neither wanted to give up the staring contest to show the other how pissed off they still were. 

A bit later, the rain poured outside which prompted Sniper to get back inside. He went to the living-room and found Spy on one end of the sofa, reading. Sniper sat at the other end and pretended to read too.

"Still on that novel you bought months ago, I see?" Spy eyed his lover and the book contemptfully. 

"Yeah, well better than readin' sheila's magazines, eh?" Sniper answered and Spy gritted his teeth. 

"Maybe, but at least I know how to decently dress up and present myself to people, making the centuries and millenia of evolution of the human species worth something."

Sniper clenched his jaw and put his book down on his lap. 

"Bored already? Or are you tired because your book doesn't have any images in, hm?" Spy asked with an amount of disdain. 

"You mongrel." 

"Is that it already? Is there nothing else left to say but insults, now? Mind you, I knew I am the most prolific with my words of us two but this is almost disappointing."

The truth was that deep down, Sniper was tired of fighting, he hated it when they fought and Spy would insult him relentlessly that way. Even the air he breathed was charged with the animosity between the two. Sniper hated it. He grumbled. 

"Pff…" Spy had guessed from his lover's silence that he was fed up with it all. Honestly, the Frenchman didn't like it either and much preferred when he and his lover were getting along nicely. 

Unfortunately, Spy also knew that he himself was the one who turned furious first and to top it all, Sniper would be too awkward with his words to manage to call it a stalemate and resume life normally,  _ lovingly. _ It was thus Spy's responsibility to make it up to his lover.

But the man was proud, way too proud, and he couldn't just apologise, non. So he needed to think of something else. 

Meanwhile at the other end of the sofa, Sniper had switched on the TV and was staring emptily, his brow still furrowed against his lover. Spy put his magazine down and went away. As he did so, Sniper realised that his shoulders had been tensing up the whole time. He took a deep breath and released them, feeling them fall. Fights were as tiring emotionally than they were physically to him…

The Aussie's eyes were riveted on the screen but, similarly to the book, he wasn't trying to understand anything, it was more to wash the bitter taste of anger from his mind. 

After a few programs and several commercial breaks, Sniper's mind had rolled enough. He wasn't the one to have started it all but he would stop it. It was ridiculous and had lasted long enough. The Aussie switched the TV off and went to the kitchen where he had hoped to see his lover. But non, Spy wasn't there. 

Sniper exited and walked through the corridor. Spy wasn't in the bathroom either, so he must have been in the bedroom. Sniper opened the door and found his lover in bed, napping and giving his back to him. He sighed and closed the door as gently as possible. The sound of the rain must have put him to sleep. Sniper removed his t-shirt and trousers before slipping under the duvet in bed. 

He slid closer to his lover's back and spooned him, lacing his arms around him and sticking his skin against… oh? The Frenchman had decided against wearing anything to sleep such that Sniper's skin was directly against his lover's. The Aussie smiled. It wasn't unusual for them both to sleep naked and Sniper had convinced Spy of the benefits of it. If at first the Frenchman was reluctant, he quickly grew to love it.

_ "I'm sorry Spook…"  _ Sniper whispered, hearing the man in his arms breath slowly and steadily.  _ "I love you and I don't want to piss you off…" _

Sniper's hand slid along Spy's naked skin as he breathed in the Frenchman's scent, on the nape of his neck and the back of his head, through his silky salt and pepper hair. The Aussie couldn't help but close his eyes. His hands explored and naturally arrived at Spy's hip, he stroked it under his fingers, mapping it against his closed eyelids and the temptation was too big to not let his palm grasp at Spy's backside. The tender flesh there was exquisitely soft… Sniper palmed it more, trying whole as much of it as he could with just one calloused hand.

_ Oh… What the…? _ He thought. 

As he caressed Spy's precious behind, his fingers were of course tempted to do more but Sniper would never take advantage of his lover in his sleep. However, he removed his hand quickly and rubbed his fingers together in front of his nose. 

_ It's wet and smells of vanilla like the l-…? Did he…? _

Before he could fully ask himself, he felt Spy's backside slide closer to himself. Sniper's eyebrows jumped as soon, he felt his lover roll his hips back against him, as if to ask for more. 

_ "You're awake?" _ He whispered. 

Spy didn't answer but quickly grabbed Sniper's hand and put it on his own lower abdomen before pushing it own. Sniper felt his palm and fingers first against skin, then through short thick hairs and finally on his lover's masculinity. Sniper's eyes snapped wide when he realised that Spy was already far from soft down there and that he was pushing Sniper's hand up and down his length as he rolled his hips in rhythm. 

Ah, so the reason why Spy was wet behind was because he wasn't napping. He was preparing himself for Sniper. The Aussie's member was slowly waking up too but if Spy was already that demanding, he wouldn't miss the opportunity. 

Sniper removed his hand from Spy's length and heard the Frenchman's frustration in a little groan. 

"So you've prepared yourself, eh…?" 

Sniper's fingers went back to Spy's backside, but this time he didn't shy away and slid a finger in his lover's intimacy. Spy's eyes snapped open under the much wanted intrusion and his breath was now audible. Sniper realised that indeed, Spy had worked himself open pretty thoroughly before he arrived, as he slid a second finger in. It was warm and and so slick…!

Spy wanted more than just Sniper's fingers. He took the Aussie's wrist and pulled it away quickly before rolling his backside against Sniper's member which wasn't quite as needy as Spy yet, but on the right way to become so. 

"God you're so needy…!"

Spy was making all kinds of soft noises to convince Sniper to give him what he wanted but the Aussie liked teasing his lover and seeing the arrogance melt away from him as his body craved Sniper's. 

"I'm afraid you'll have to beg me, darl'..." Sniper growled in Spy's ear, and couldn't see his member twitch but his high-pitched moan didn't get lost on his ear, and Spy pushed his hips back harder against Sniper's. 

"Sniper…" Spy finally broke his silence. 

"Yeah? What d'you want? Want me to take it slow? Make it last as long as possible, have you torn apart and wantin' more…?"

The mere thought of it had Spy's length aching. But he wanted it the exact opposite from that.

"Non…"

"What then? Say it, I can't guess what's in that head of yours." Sniper teased and felt Spy put his hand back to touch himself. "Nah, that's not gonna happen!" 

The Aussie firmly grabbed Spy's wrists and forcefully pulled them behind his lover's back, leaving him to roll his hips into nothing under the duvet. 

"Sniper, please…"

"Please what?"

Sniper wanted to hear him say it.

"Please…  _ Touch me… _ " 

Spy didn't see his lover's malicious smile.

"Nah. Not before you tell me what you want me to do with  _ this… _ " 

Spy's little noises and squirms had got the Aussie as ready and eager as him down below and he now grinded his length against the Frenchman's backside, still holding his wrists firmly.

"Argh… Please Sniper, please do it, please, I'll do whatever you want…"

"Whatever I want, eh? Alroight then, listen carefully." 

Spy held his breath to fully pay attention. Sniper held both wrists with one hand and grabbed Spy's jaw with the other, pulling it so that the Frenchman's ear was next to the Aussie's lips. 

"You're gonna lie on yer stomach and I'm gonna take you the way I want. Is that what you wanted too? Is that why you prepared yerself fer me?" 

Spy nodded, his jaw still in his lover's powerful grasp. He could feel Sniper's hot breath against his ear. 

"Alroight then, you worked me up quite well so it might be quick and a bit rough…" Sniper added, still growling in his lover's ear. 

"O-oui, please…"

Spy realised his hands were held behind his back against the top of his backside, which meant that if he extended his fingers correctly, he could grab Sniper and see how much he wanted this all…

"Oh, God, hm… Yeah… Work me up with yer hands first… Hmm…" Sniper rolled his hips in Spy's hand for a minute or two and the Frenchman realised that the Aussie was craving this as much as he himself did. "God, you've slicked up yer hands so much… Oorh…" 

After a few minutes, Sniper flipped Spy to have him lie on his stomach and straddled him, sitting on his upper thighs. He pinned Spy's wrists firmly right and left from him and bent down to his ear. 

" _ Now don't touch yerself while I take you. If you do, I'll stop everythin', am I clear?" _

"Oui…"

"Roight… Let's see now…" 

Sniper released Spy's wrists and splayed a hand on his lover's back. He took his own throbbing member and positioned it correctly before pushing slowly with his hips. 

"Aaawh… Sniper… O-oui, oui, oui…" 

Spy grasped the bedsheets left and right as he felt his lover breach inside him in the most exquisite way… The Aussie pushed himself all the way in, slowly and steadily.

"God, you must have taken ages to work yourself open like that… It's never been that easy…" 

Spy spread his legs a bit more and closed his eyes, enjoying his lover's masculinity fully inside him. Sniper shifted his hands to Spy's shoulders for better leverage and started rolling his hips.

One growled while the other moaned and in no time, Sniper was having his way with his lover, pushing him deeper and deeper in the mattress with each fast thrust, slamming himself on him harder and harder with his hips. Spy thought it was a bit too fast maybe but non, he soon felt it, the pleasure from that intoxicating spot inside of him and his moans went louder, to cover up the sound of Sniper's reckless love for him, and the bed sounding like it would not bear this a second more. 

But neither of them cared. Spy was a moaning, drooling mess under his lover's harsh and so much wanted ways. Sniper was sweating heavily but his lover felt so perfect, wrapping him tightly and warmly, and the soft cries and moans that he managed to make Spy sing encouraged him to not not stop and go harder and deeper. Spy wanted it rough, eh? So did he now and he wasn't caring so much about what Spy wanted anymore, nah. 

Spy was  _ his, _ and doing what  _ he  _ wanted. That's all that mattered. 

"S-sniper…? P-please, please…" 

"What d'you want now, eh?" 

Sniper continued his coming and going as he now laid down on his lover's back. Spy had shut his legs and Sniper's knees were planted left and right from his body. 

"Please let me touch myself… I'm so close… I need to… Please…"

"Nah… I have somethin' in mind for ya, you just stay still and I'll take care of ya… Oh, God you feel so good…"

Spy was crushed between the mattress and his lover's body, far from him the will to complain as it was exactly what he wanted and needed. He tightened his grasp on the bedsheets to resist the temptation to slide his hand where it had been aching for ages. That, and knowing that Sniper  _ had something _ planned for him would help him not yield. 

"Oh I'm close too now…" Sniper took Spy by the hair at the back of his head and pulled. Spy turned his head and met his lover's demand as if the Aussie had worded it out. 

Their lips met and they finally kissed each other hungrily and passionately, breathing each other's air hard as Sniper's hips slowed down to appreciate his lover's kiss. Their tongues pressed against each other, sliding slickly and as slowly as Sniper wanted it to last. Finally, he buried himself as deep as he could and dived against his lover's neck, planting his teeth in the sensitive skin and groaning loudly as his breath shuddered in the rhythm of his release. Spy had rolled his hips up to meet with his lover's thrust and exposed more of his neck for Sniper to do as he pleased. 

The Aussie took a second to calm his breath down. He moved his mouth back up to kiss Spy's delicious and wet lips. The Frenchman obliged and both exchanged their apologies and love in the heat of their breaths, in their more calm and mellow moans, in the lapping noises from each kiss, slapping the air and their fragile eardrums. 

"I love you, Spook… You're amazin'... You're so bloody perfect, I love you… I'm sorry about earlier, it was stupid… I love you so much, I shouldn't have yelled at you…"

Spy smiled as he accepted Sniper's apologies with his lips. He felt the Aussie's arms wrap around him in a dear hug.

"I love you too… It was my fault… I apologise, Sniper… You are everything I could dream of… Please… I love you…" 

Sniper smiled and still not disconnecting from his lover, he let his hands run on the sides of the Frenchman's body.

"Gosh, you know how to make me turn into nothin' more than a brute… Did I hurt you?" 

"Non, it was perfect… It was all I wanted, or almost."

"Almost?" 

Sniper opened his eyes and found Spy smiling and staring at him, his eyes crossing slightly. 

"I have yet to see what you had in mind for me." 

"Ah, yeah, well… Let me uh… oorgh you make me want you so much I still haven't gone back to normal down there…" 

"You may stay a bit longer if you want." 

"Nah, I wanna do somethin' for you…" 

Sniper slowly disconnected from his lover's body and pushed himself on all four. 

"Turn on yer back."

Spy obeyed and Sniper's pupils dilated when he saw how eager his lover still was for him. Spy's wanting for more leaked and had been so for a while judging by the wetness on his abdomen. The Frenchman wrapped his arms around his lover and pulled him in for more kisses. The Aussie happily obliged and their moans answered each other. 

But soon enough, Sniper's mouth went away from his lover and moved down to his neck. He kissed, lapped and nibbled softly, his teeth grazing the skin as he felt Spy's fingers slide through his hair. Sniper continued his journey down and the next stop was the Frenchman's chest. Spy had a bit of chest hair and his age started showing there too. Sniper flicked his tongue against his lover's nipple and the French didn't moan, nah, he almost sung. Sniper spent some time there, playing with the sensitive skin between his lips and his teeth too, tugging at it softly before his tongue would swirl slickly around it. 

"Mon Dieu… Sniper… Awh…" 

The Aussie smiled. If his lover had reverted back to his mother tongue, it was a good sign. He gave a last kiss on his chest before continuing his trails of kisses down. Spy squirmed and wiggled slightly below him, especially when Sniper lapped at the side of his stomach. He knew Spy was ticklish and loved to hear that soft and sweet giggle out of him. 

He moved further down, his hands sliding along Spy's sides, a settled between his lover upper thighs, the Frenchman's masculinity standing between the two of them. 

Sniper wanted to have Spy begging again so he teased him, kissing around it, without getting to it yet. 

"Mmmh… Sniper… I have been patient enough, stop fooling around!"

Sniper raised his head and raised his eyebrows as if he was waiting for the magic word. 

_ "Please…" _

The Frenchman asked and quickly Sniper spread his tongue wide on the underside of his lover's member before dragging it lasciviously upwards. Spy hissed and clenched his fingers on Sniper's head, through his brown locks.

"Mon Dieu… Oui…! Oui, s'il te plaît, awwwwh!"

[Yes, please!]

But it was when Spy saw Sniper taking it in his mouth that he lost contact with his legs. The Aussie licked and bobbed his head on it slowly, making sure his tongue would play with all the sensitive spots on his lover's hard member. Spy rolled his eyes back in his head and rolled his head back into the mattress. He closed his eyes to fully appreciate Sniper's licking and lapping before he felt him suck at the tip of it, which Spy knew had been leaking for a while. 

"Oui, oui! Oooh, Sniper…" 

Spy couldn't help but thrust in. Sniper pinned his thighs down powerfully with hands and slowly took more and more of his lover's masculinity in. The Frenchman looked down and their eyes met as Sniper's lips were sliding to take more and more centimetres in. Eventually he had it all and Spy was overwhelmed by it all. He knew he shouldn't move to not choke his lover further, and so he held himself back. But his lover had him wrapped softly and warmly and had stopped moving. 

Spy's member throbbed. Sniper felt it and he would have smiled if he could. He slowly withdrew with obscene threads of wetness connecting his lips and Spy's begging for more. 

"Je t'aime, Sniper…" 

[I love you, Sniper…]

He barely managed to whisper, extending his fingers. Sniper brushed the side of his head against the slim fingers, feeling the absolute trust Spy in him though his hair, his sideburn and his cheek.

"I wish you could see how gorgeous you are right now, luv'…"

Sniper smiled before getting back to it but quite faster. He had one hand at the base and his mouth playing with the tip while his other hand went to lace his fingers through Spy's. 

"Mon... Dieu…" 

Sniper liked it all too much and seeing Spy trying to resist his imminent climax was delightful. 

"S-Sniper, je-je vais…"

[S-Sniper, I-I will…]

Sniper took it all in and clenched his fingers around Spy's as the Frenchman closed his eyes and gritted his teeth hard under the waves of pleasure. Sniper focused on steadying his breath as he felt his lover's liberation in the contractions of his member and his masculine release. Spy's body contracted erratically but soon he let himself fall limply on the bed. The last thing he saw before that, was Sniper wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and gulping down. 

The Aussie laid next to his lover on the bed and pulled him to lay his head on his shoulder. Spy let his lover do and adjusted his position. He put his head next to Sniper's and pulled his face with a hand to his cheek to make him turn and kiss him. 

"I love you Spook…"

Sniper pulled Spy's leg over him and caressed his thigh lovingly as the Frenchman kissed him. 

"So do I, Sniper,  _ merci." _

_ [Thank you.]  _

The sound of the kisses diffused in the air like the ripple from a pebble they took turn to toss in a calm lake.


	54. Sweet Nothings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Henlo, hope Im not bothering you! So whenever Spy tops, Sniper notices how he's fond of whispering sweet nothings into his ear (even though most of the time he doesn't understand). One time while he's topping, he decides to try that as well and LOVED the reaction from Spy. And now he continuosly does that just to get Spy's reaction."

* * *

"Already back?"

"Oi, you could just say how much ya missed me!" 

Sniper entered his lover's suite at about eleven in the night. He had been drinking and spending time with the rest of his colleagues. Spy was used to that habit of his on the Fridays, when work had been good and they had won more than they had lost during the week.

As Sniper entered, he didn't see the Frenchman but had heard his distant voice from - his, officially, but rather  _ their _ \- bedroom.

The Aussie pushed the bedroom door and the sight seized him. 

_ Woah…  _

His lips parted but no sound came out. His lover was lying on the satin sheets wearing nothing but a pair of dark red boxer shorts that stuck to his skin in the most delicious and enticing way, and his usual red satin dressing gown. 

Spy was reading a magazine and as he wondered why his lover hadn't made it yet to the bed, he lowered it down and raised his eyes to the man at the door. His lips had parted slightly and his eyes were keenly devouring the Frenchman on the bed. 

"Someone is enjoying the view…"

Sniper's eyes were riveted on his lover and Spy would not complain. He smirked and put the magazine aside before removing the dressing gown and throwing it on the nearby chair, seemingly innocently. Sniper hadn't still uttered a word and watched as his lover turned on his stomach to continue reading his magazine, propped on his forearms. Spy removed his balaclava and threw it behind him. It landed on his lover's face. 

"W-what…?" Sniper barely whispered as his lover's piece of clothing landing on his face slapped him back to reality. He took it off and undressed rapidly before joining Spy on the bed. 

The Frenchman acted as if he did not notice anything and pretended that he was still reading when in truth, had the magazine been upside down in his hands, he wouldn't have realised it…! 

Sniper came closer to Spy's left shoulder as he laid on the bed and started peppering kisses on it. The Frenchman's lips pursed up in a smile but he continued reading, or at least pretended, and turned the page. 

"What are you readin' about…?" 

"Since when are you interested in my literary tastes?" 

"Since it looks like your magazine is the only thing you care about, eh." Sniper continued kissing his lover on his back, getting closer to his neck. 

"That is because you are doing a poor job at catching my attention." Spy said. 

"Oh, I'll catch more than that, luv'..." Sniper's hand slid on his lover's back all the way down and grasped the curves that had been beckoning him through the red fabric of the boxer shorts. "Mmmh… You're so soft…" 

Sniper let his teeth graze on the Frenchman's skin before he bit in the hollow between his neck and the shoulder. 

"And you are very harsh with me, biting me like that!"

"As if you didn't like it…"

His hand still palming Spy's backside, kneading it lovingly, Sniper got his lips closer to the Frenchman's ear and did something that usually worked on himself very well. 

_ "You're gorgeous lyin' on the bed almost naked like this." _

He growled in Spy's ear and the Frenchman closed his eyes. Sniper continued. 

_ "Everything's poetry with you, have you left some beauty for the rest of us or did you just steal it all fer yerself…?" _

Spy's smile widened at how cheesy it sounded, especially coming from Sniper who wasn't the most talkative man. 

_ "Look at you…"  _

Sniper's hand slid up to Spy's hair and played with it. 

_ "Yer hair's so soft, it's softer than silk between my fingers." _

"But it is grey." 

_ "Grey is the color of the ashes, the same that you turn me into when I see you naked on yer bed for me like that…"  _

Spy raised an eyebrow, his eyes still on the magazine as Sniper was staring at his hair. The Frenchman didn't expect that sort of compliment but would never complain. 

"Really?" He asked for more. 

_ "Yeah and look at yer body… Pff, wearin' clothes when you look like that should be a crime. Or maybe you're just savin' yourself fer me, eh?" _

"Maybe…" Spy playfully answered. 

_ "Yeah you are… And hmm… What have we here, eh? Curves and curves…"  _

Sniper's finger slid along the Frenchman's spine as if it was a train on track and met with the waistband of Spy's underwear. 

_ "Hidin' yer best curves but showin' them anyway, what's that? Torture?"  _

"Does it feel like it?" 

_ "Oh yeah… Feels like you're temptin' just what I need to go wild and want you beyond what I could control, but that bloody underwear of yours doesn't want me to touch you, it doesn't want me to feel yer warmth on my palm, on my fingers, grabbin' ya…" _

The mere thought of it all turned on Spy enough that he now slightly leaned in to get more of Sniper's warm breath on his ear. The Aussie noticed it and smiled. He pressed his lips against his lover's ear lobe and then below his ear, on his neck. 

"Hmm…" 

He bit it playfully. 

_ "But I'm not gonna let anythin' stand between you'n me, luv', oh no, especially not some stupid underwear. You're too beautiful for me to not rip everythin' apart with my hands and my teeth if I have to."  _

"Oh, mmmh…" Spy bit his lip imagining his lover tearing his clothes apart hungrily, and his insides twitched.

Sniper went away from his lover's ear and pulled Spy's underwear down before throwing it away. The Aussie pushed his lover's legs enough for him to lay on his stomach in between. 

He grabbed Spy's backside on the bare flesh now with eager and strong palms. He kneaded it with his hands before getting closer and kissing it, treating it like the most precious thing in existence and in a way, it was, because it was part of Spy.

He kissed and nibbled at it before lapping lasciviously the soft skin.

"Ah, Sniper…" 

His tongue was slowly closing down on his lover's most intimate entrance. He flicked his tongue at it and Spy cried out of surprised. He hadn't expected the furtive lick, Sniper was more used to a slow style of approach. But then again, he wasn't used to saying sweet nothings to Spy, yet here they were… 

Spy tried to not moan at first but his lover's tongue swirling around sent his mind to spin round and round in rhythm with Sniper's care. The Aussie was grasping Spy's backside firmly, his fingers digging in the flesh hungrily as he treated his lover's body like a delicacy… 

Spy could hardly hold himself anymore, he could feel it between his legs, he was more and more sensitive and wanted more. A moan escaped him but of course the Aussie heard it. 

"Gosh you're the sexiest thing when you moan…" 

Spy pushed his magazine and it fell off the bed. He needed to grab a pillow and bury his face in it while Sniper played and savoured. The Aussie on the other hand didn't smother his noises of pleasure, he was a natural and as such, if it felt right to moan, then he wouldn't hold himself back. But he wasn't moaning, nah, the man was treating his lover and himself. Seeing Spy trying to hide his face in a pillow and suppress his sounds encouraged Sniper even more.

He kissed at the soft flesh here and there and got his index finger to trace lazy shapes on Spy's skin as he looked at it, under the yellow light of the night table. 

"You're gorgeous and delicious… I can't get enough of you…" 

Spy felt something heavy on his backside. He looked back and saw Sniper's head resting on it as if it were a pillow. 

"I love you… I just… I love you not like I've ever meant it in my life before." 

Spy's eyes snapped wide when the sentence hit his mind. He knew Sniper was normally a man of few words and he meant each of them. His words weighed so much and meant so much to the Frenchman. He took a second to digest it all before opening the drawer of the nearby night table and grabbing the bottle there. He let it hover before Sniper's eyes. The latter smiled and took the hand that held the bottle. He took the bottle away and kissed the surprised digits. 

When he let go of Spy's hand, he poured some of the bottle's content on his fingers and generously coated them. He then grasped Spy's backside again and teased with his finger. Spy felt a bolt of electricity shoot through his body. He exhaled in a moan and opened his legs slightly more. 

Sniper took the hint and pushed his index in. 

"Awwh… Sniper…" 

"Breathe, luv', take it easy… I won't hurt you… I'll go slow and at yer pace… There we go, relax…"

"Oh mon Dieu…"

Sniper pushed a second finger and worked in slow movements. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Spy. 

"You're doin' great, you've always been."

"S-Sniper… Aah… Ooh…" 

The Aussie slightly curled his fingers as he slowly massaged and looked for that sweet spot. He found it soon enough as suddenly Spy's hips jolted on their own. 

"Oh mon Dieu!"

"I'm really strugglin' to not put my hand down there. Yer moanin'... It's perfect…" 

He made the Frenchman sing his pleasure in ahs and ohs for a bit longer until Spy was grinding on the mattress itself. Meanwhile, Sniper had coated his throbbing length generously. He slowly removed his fingers and rolled his lover to have him lay on his back. He realised Spy was red in the face beyond belief and he was panting. 

"Are you alroight? Did I hurt you?" 

"N-Non…" Spy wiped his glistening eyes with the back of his hand. 

_ Bloody hell, he's had tears in his eyes… _ Sniper thought and instinctively laid on top of his lover to hug him, crushing him with his all his weight, his love and his affection. 

"I'm sorry if I hurt you luv'... I-I can stop fer tonight, sorry…" He whispered in Spy's ear. 

The Frenchman had laced an arm around Sniper's neck and he had lost his fingers in his brown locks of hair.

"Non you did not hurt me, it's just… What you said… I… It… I'm sorry."

Sniper wanted to look his lover in the eye but Spy had blocked his head on his shoulder. 

"Hey… Spook…? I love you, alroight? It's not because I don't say it as often as you do or as well as you do, that I don't. I-I'm just awkward with words."

"You've just proved that you're not."

"I-I'm tryin' because… I love it when you tell me all those things you think about me so I thought I'd try and give back."

"I didn't know you could… And I didn't know what it felt to receive those words… I must admit that I am quite speechless, Sniper."

Spy released his grip around Sniper's neck and the Aussie went for his lover's lips. 

"I just think… That you're… Beautiful… The most… Beautiful person I've ever met and… And Gosh you turn me on so much…" 

Sniper had sprinkled his kisses with the words and could feel Spy weaken after each one of them. When their lips parted, the Frenchman was as red as a brick. 

"And you're so cute when you blush… Doesn't happen often." 

"I… I am trying to hold it back but I guess if you can see it that means I am failing quite badly."

"Nah, you're not failing anythin'. You just let yourself be fully yerself and that's great. I appreciate it, luv', I really do." 

Their lips met again and as they did, Sniper teased his lover's entrance with the tip of his masculinity until Spy took the matter in his own hands,  _ so to speak,  _ and positioned his lover correctly. 

Sniper cupped Spy's head with his hands and pressed his forehead against his lover's as he rolled his hips, breaching inside his lover as delicately as he could. 

"I love you so much…" Sniper whispered.

Spy rolled his eyes up in his head, overwhelmed by what he heard and what he felt.

Sniper took it slow that night. He wanted above all to  _ make love,  _ as opposed to anything else. He wanted Spy to fall in love with  _ his  _ way of doing things, he wanted Spy to dream about it and wake up sweating, wanting for it to happen again and at the same time, knowing that if it did happen again, the Frenchman would melt at the first touch, as if it was the first time in his life. And in a way, it was. It was the first time that someone dared show Spy that he wasn't just a charming handsome man, he was also one that could be loved for different reasons; that if he had been born hideous instead of gorgeous, Sniper would have fallen for him anyway because he saw something that no one else did. 

_ "Spy…"  _

The Frenchman opened his eyes slowly to face his lover and what Spy saw made his insides melt. 

_ "You're beautiful. Not like a sheila, not like any bloke I've seen before. Everything is so beautiful about you. Yer eyes, they… They're like burning ice drops, you've got the prettiest eyes I have ever seen. Yer nose…" _

Sniper let his finger slide down on his lover's nose, their faces a few inches apart and his hips still rolling but oh, so seductively and slowly.

_ "Yer nose is hooked just what it needs to be, it's small and cute. And then yer lips… Oh my God yer lips…" _

Sniper's eyes crossed looking at them. 

_ "They're the most delicious lips I've ever kissed. They're tender and… And when you kiss me, I can taste yer nasty cigs but now, heh, I think I like the nicotine more than you do." _

"Why?" 

Sniper smiled softly and cupped his lover's face, resting his forehead againt Spy's.

_ "Because if I taste it on my tongue, that means I'm kissin' you, and that's about one of the best things in the world." _

Spy screwed his eyes shut and frowned. He was the one who was used to being romantic and shower his loved one with compliments. He rarely was at the receiving end. Of course he had heard the odd kind word about his looks here and there, but no one before Sniper had actually described him that long and that poetically. 

_ "Spy…" _

Sniper was about to add something when Spy cut him. 

"I am having the time of my life… Why is it happening so late…? And what you are doing to me tonight, I will never forget it Sniper." 

"Neither will I." 

His thrusts were slow, they were neither to satisfy his lover, nor himself. He was literally  _ making love _ , building it with the sweat of his brow, the few words he knew and the best of intentions. He just wanted to tell Spy how much he loved him. 

"Stop." 

When he heard it, Sniper thought he had bruised his lover and froze on the spot. 

"Did it hurt? Did I go too far?"

"Non. I just don't want you to make love to me." Spy said.

"Oh… Sorry I-"

" _ Please hold me instead."  _

If the words hadn't hit Sniper hard enough on his head, his lover's pleading eyes and the crack in his voice made him obey on the spot. He delicately withdrew from Spy and lied down, pulling him to lie on top of himself. 

Spy gladly obliged and used his lover's shoulder as his pillow. He felt Sniper's long and strong fingers through his hair. 

"I… I love you, Spy. I'm sorry I don't know how to say it otherwise… oh no actually, I do!"

Spy raised his head off his lover's shoulder and Sniper brushed his lips and his chin with his thumb, as he looked straight in the Frenchman's eyes, and said:

_ "Je t'aime." _

_ [I love you.] _

This time, Spy failed utterly. Not only did he turn red but his lips trembled. Sniper understood and smiled as sweetly as he could while his lover buried his head in his neck to hide what was, perhaps, the most honest tears in his life.


	55. Perle's baguette

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Lu and Mundy are fighting, and everything is told from Perle's POV. She's a cat so some of the words they say and actions they do make her confoos. :3 make them fight about whether or not bread should be stored in the fridge"

* * *

"So, how did you find it?" 

"I don't know you did it, luv', it was delicious, I loved it!" 

"I knew you would. One of the best chefs in France taught me how to prepare this ratatouille."

"What?! You've got to be kiddin'?"

Spy smirked. 

"Am I in the habit of joking?"

"No, but you've got the nasty habit of not being completely straight with people, eh?"

The Frenchman walked to his lover still sitting on his chair and let his hand go through his hair.

"How could I ever be  _ straight _ when I love you and live with you, hm?"

"Pff…" The Aussie chuckled and seeing his lover bend to his lips, he raised his. 

" _ Je t'aime."  _

_ [I love you.] _

"Love ya too, gorgeous."

Sniper and Spy had just finished their dinner. The Frenchman dealt with the dishes while his lover went to give their cat, Perle, her dinner. 

"Here you go, pretty sheila, enjoy." 

The fluffy white cat originally belonged to Spy and used to be his only friend before he met the Aussie. She had popped up in his life by complete chance, a clingy, dirty kitten who mewled and mewled relentlessly until he had taken her in his gloved hands. Then she had stopped mewling and looked at him with her big, lagoon blue eyes, pleading him to take care of her. 

And he did for a while, thinking she would eventually go her own way, but she didn't. As much as he rescued her, she consoled and comforted him in the moments of doubts, when his arrogant mask would melt away, in the secrecy of his own walls, to reveal a simple man who complicated himself on his own. 

He had fed her and sheltered her while she spent entire nights with him, sleepless for both of them, but she nonetheless remained faithfully at his side. Perle also taught him that some things in life are only as hard as you decide to make them. She showed him how to  _ not care _ , how to appreciate the little things too. Above all, Perle had given him the love and affection that Spy refused to believe he lacked and craved.

When the Aussie became a part of his life, Spy was anxious that Perle wouldn't like him but non. Sniper was a natural, he listened to his body and reasoned so differently than Spy. And Perle felt it. She accepted him on the spot and now, she would indifferently give the same love and affection to either of them.

"Enjoy yer meal, beautiful."

Perle had trotted to her bowl of food and brushed herself against her tall master's legs. 

"Meow."

"You're welcome." 

Sniper crouched down to pat her head before turning back to his lover. Spy had cleaned more or less everything up, apart from the bread which was still on the table. It was authentic traditional baguette from Spy's country of origin that the Frenchman insisted would go marvelously with the ratatouille he prepared.

Perle finished eating and raised her head to her masters. She saw her tall master take the bread from the table and open the big white box of coldness where he placed it. 

The tall master went behind the short one who, poor him, was washing the dishes. Perle jumped on the counter and sat down far enough to not get splashed with water but close enough to get her masters' attention easily if she wanted. 

The tall one hugged the short one from behind and laced his arms around his waist. Perle licked her paws for a while, watching them and feeling the temperature rise on her masters from the distance. 

But soon she got bored and felt like being the third wheel, so she went back to her basket in the living room. The food made her heavy and she could do with a nap. She laid in her bed, curled in a ball of fur and closed her eyelids.

She got woken up later by some loud barking noises coming from the very room she was napping in. Quickly, the white cat got up and on her paws to try and understand what was happening and try to defend her masters if needs be. 

Her blue eyes snapped wide and her fluffy tail pointed straight up when she realised that in fact, the barking came from her masters themselves. They were the ones shouting loudly at each other. 

Being a cat meant that she couldn't understand the words. But who needs to understand human language when you can feel what they do? 

The lady cat watched her masters quarrel as if it was a tennis match, her head swinging from one to the other. Her old master slammed the bread he was holding on the table and then the tall one took it and headed for the kitchen, but the old one stopped him, clawing through his polo shirt. His voice went higher in pitch and he seemed surprised. 

Perle rolled her eyes as the yelling started again. She cleaned her white fluff and watched the baguette go back and forth between her masters' hands. 

"Bread goes in the fridge, otherwise it goes bad!"

"Bread  _ might _ go to the fridge but a baguette doesn't!"

Spy slammed the basket with the baguette on the table.

"Is yer fancy stick bread still bread? Yeah, so in the fridge it goes!" 

Sniper took it and turned to head to the kitchen.

"Non!" Spy held him back, grabbing the Aussie's polo shirt. Sniper spun on his heels under the force of his lover's grasp and the Frenchman snatched the basket off his very hand. He put it on the table behind him and pointed his index at the Aussie. 

"You, Bushman, need to learn! Oui, please, by all means, do put your insult of a loaf of tasteless plastic you dare call bread in the fridge, but not a baguette! Here the climate is not as hot and humid as where you come from. In all those years of bread making, do you really think our bakers have not mastered the techniques and use the right kind of yeast for it to be conserved for more than just one meal? I assure you that it will survive the night and will still be very fresh tomorrow morning for breakfast. Bushman, do you even listen to me?!"

Sniper's eyes were on the Frenchman but he clearly had muted his lover in his head for the entire duration of Spy's speech and it irritated the Frenchman even more. 

"Bushman?! At least have the respect to listen to me when I address you!" 

"Spy, look, all I'm tryin' to do here is save the bloody bread but you don't get it-"

"Non I don't!" Spy cut him. "I don't get why you're clearly not paying attention to me and why you act so stubborn about the bread!"

"Spy, no, that's not what I mean, you're wrong-"

"I'm  _ wrong?!  _ Excuse me, how many times have you bought a baguette in a French bakery here in Paris, hm? How many?! Bushman, sometimes, you do exasperate me… I don't even know how I can explain the wrongs of your ways…" 

"Spook-"

" _ Spook?!  _ Non, stop trying to soothe me, this is only making it worse! Argh! I will go out, I need some air!"

Spy headed for the door while both of them heard Perle trotting away.

"Ya hypocrite!"

The Frenchman stopped sharp and spun on his heels.

"What did you just call me…?"

Sniper took the few steps that separated them from each other and towered Spy. 

"You ask me to listen to you, which I've been doin' for the past bloody hour or so but you've never stopped interruptin' me! Let me finish a bloody sentence!"

"Non! I have heard enough!"

Spy started to turn away from his lover but Sniper grabbed him by his flapping tie and pulled. The Frenchman spun to face the Aussie who grabbed him by his collar, his teeth flashing angrily. 

"No! You will listen to me, bloody hell! Why should  _ I  _ have to listen to yer babblin' and you don't, eh? D'you think what I have to say is so stupid that you'd rather not hear it or something?!"

"Bushman, if you don't release me right now, I will make you do it by force and won't apologise for it." 

Spy said as calmly as he was threatening.

"Meeeow!"

Sniper released his lover and silently nodded his head at the basket containing the bread, over Spy's shoulder. The Frenchman turned and his shoulders sank. 

"Oh…"

Perle had jumped inside and curled up, her head barely peeking out of it.

"She's scared?" Sniper said, seeing the ball of fluff inflating and deflating fast at the rhythm of the lady cat's breath, her hair spiking everywhere.

"She…" Spy started. 

"What?"

"When I first found her and didn't have anywhere to let her sleep in, she would do that. She would go in the bread basket. She only goes there when she needs comfort because something scares her. I've seen her do that before during thunderstorms as well."

Both of them got closer to the cat. 

"What's wrong, pretty sheila?" 

Spy went to scratch her head. Her eyes were still wide open. 

"You did just grab me by my collar." The Frenchman said.

"And ya did threaten to do God knows what if I didn't let you go."

Sniper approached his fingers to her nose. Perle sniffed repeatedly before giving a few licks. She turned her head for Spy's scratches to move to her cheeks and her jaw. 

"What is wrong,  _ ma belle?  _ Did you get scared because we yelled at each other?"

[My beautiful one]

"Meow." 

"I think that's a yes, Spook."

"I think so too." 

Perle pushed the bread away so that both her masters could pet her. She pushed Spy's hand and at first, the Frenchman thought she was pushing him away but non… She had pushed his hand where it should have gone long ago.

On Sniper's. 

Their eyes met and instinctively, Spy leaned his head on Sniper's chest while the tall man laced an arm around his back. He left a kiss on the Frenchman's head, in his hair. 

"Y'know… It's ridiculous. I-I trust you. Leave the bread outside I don't care. I just… Sometimes it feels like you think I'm an idiot and it hurts because… I love you."

"I love you too, Sniper. And I don't see you as an idiot at all, you are far from stupid. You have a peculiar and very precise instinct whereas I tend to put rules on everything, I apologise."

"As long as you love me…" Sniper answered.

"I do, more than anything else."

"Meow!"

"We love you too, ya spoilt fluffy ball… See, that’s yer fault, she gets everythin' she wants, just like you."

"You do too, if you ask nicely." 

Perle blinked slowly and started purring against both her masters' hands even if they stopped petting her and went away. She raised her head and tilted it on the side. 

Why did humans have to clean each other's lips that much? And why did they need to claw at each other that way?


	56. The hammock - NSFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hi, Lu! This is a spicy one eheh. Sniper is taking a nap on a hammock outside the base. Spy is bored so he decides to look for his lover. When he finds him, Sniper is asleep and Spy has an idea. Spy hops up the hammock, careful not to fall nor wake Sniper up, and situates himself straddling Sniper's hips. Spy starts grinding his ass to Sniper's crotch, waiting for a reaction. What a nice feeling to wake up to, huh Snipes? (and then Spy rides snipes' dicc eheheh) 🔥💕"

"Sniper…?" 

The Frenchman had been looking for his lover everywhere as soon he had come back from his errands. He had parked his bright red car in the garage spot that Engie had kindly arranged for it and since then, wanted nothing else but spend some quality time with his beloved Aussie. 

And he eventually found him. Well, he saw the van in the distance and could guess his lover was in there. Spy smiled to himself and started walking in direction of the van. It wasn't too hot as the sun was setting, painting the sky in mellow streaks of pink.

When he arrived he realised his lover wasn't in the van but on a hammock. He had installed it between two cacti and parked the van such that no one could see him from the base, laying as naked as man could be, his face covered with his hat. 

Spy got closer to his lover to better appreciate the view. The caramel tinted skin, which had darkened under the sun, the beautifully sculpted silhouette, the chest hair and lower down, a sight that made the Frenchman's eyes light up. The slow breaths of the man Spy's heart was beating for held something magnetic. The Frenchman removed his gloves and let them fall on the dusty orange ground of the desert before letting his palm hover above his lover's chest. 

The heat that Sniper's skin had absorbed was radiating off of his entire body. Spy felt it through his hand. Speaking of hands, Sniper's right one was on his chest but the other was dangling off of the hammock, nonchalantly. Spy crouched down and took his lover's hand in his. 

_ "Tu es beau quand tu dors."  _

_ [You are handsome when you sleep.] _

The Frenchman kissed Sniper's hand tenderly. He just pressed his lips and left them there for a while, with his eyes closed. He appreciated it all, the roughness of the skin, the heat of it, and the taste against his lips. He loved it all. 

He pulled Sniper's hand to his cheek and his eyes snapped wide when two curious digits slid underneath the mask, next to his mouth to touch his bare cheek. Spy looked at his lover but his face was still under the hat so he had no way of knowing if he was awake or not.

The Frenchman decided to test it further. He smiled maliciously as he stood up. He glanced over in the direction of the base, just to double check, and all he could see was the van.

_ Parfait.  _ He thought.

[Perfect.]

He slipped out of his clothes and carefully straddled his lover's waist. Of course Spy didn't see it but his lover was smiling wide under the hat and as soon as he felt Spy's naked skin against him, shivers ran down his spine. 

Spy bent down and could feel that Sniper was awake, not on his face, not his chest, but lower down… 

He smirked and started grinding against his lover's lower abdomen, slowly, seductively, until a hand grazed his thigh. Spy didn't not stop, but now that he had made sure his lover was awake, he bent down and, still rolling his hips and backside against the Aussie's length, he lapped at the man's chest, licking and tasting. 

Sniper's skin prickled and his chest inflated amply under the attention that he didn't see coming. And Spy felt it, Sniper's masculinity throbbed at the swirling of his tongue against the Aussie's deep pink skin. He was breathing more heavily that normal and his face was flustered but the hat did a good job at hiding it. 

Spy's kisses moved up, along Sniper's collarbone and neck, until he needed the hat off. He lifted it and slid underneath while the Aussie strong hands clawed in his thighs and started rolling his hips too. But the tall man struggled. His entire body tried to maintain the balance on the hammock while he tried to make Spy understand that he wanted more and was now fully in the mood for it. 

The Frenchman removed the hat and went straight for his lover's lips. He bit his lower one playfully, a wide malicious grin on his face and let his tongue slowly dive in and dance with Sniper's. The Aussie welcomed the slick intrusion with a satisfied groan and his hands slid up his lover's thighs to grasp his tender backside. Spy moaned at the powerful sensation and Sniper drank his low sigh like a delicacy. 

"You were not sleeping?"

"I woke up when I heard yer foot steps."

"Sorry, was I too loud?"

"Nah, I was waitin' for you. Why d'you think I was sleepin' naked, eh?"

Their kisses punctuated each sentence with a lapping noise and moans. 

"I've missed ya while you where away, Spook…"

Sniper's fingers kneaded his lover's backside, pulling it apart slowly. Spy's moans jumped an octave and he slid his hands in his lover's hair, grasping the brown, wavy locks there firmly.

"And I wanted you so badly…" 

Sniper growled in his lover's ear

"Mon Dieu… I want you too…"

Spy grabbed his lover's hard member and gave it a few strokes. Sniper screwed his eyes shut. 

"Ooh… Yeah, yeah…" 

The Frenchman then lifted himself off of his lover's pelvis just enough to position himself before slowly sinking down on Sniper's aching masculinity, relaxing his lower body more and more as he soon welcomed it entirely in his body. 

"Bugger… You feel so, so good… Ooh…"

Sniper bit his lip. 

"So do you,  _ mon amour. _ Now you let me enjoy myself, please." 

[My love]

Spy's hips started rolling slowly at first for him to get used to it and not hurt himself. But soon enough, he needed it faster, so his hips rocked back and forth quicker on his lover who had nothing to do but enjoy himself. 

"Ooh… God… Y-yeah… Just like that…. Oh you make me feel so good…"

Spy put his hands on Sniper's shoulders for better leverage and as he pleasured both of them, the Aussie opened his eyes to see the face of the man above him stil in the balaclava. 

"Remove yer mask… please…"

Spy yanked it off fast and threw it away still riding his lover as if it was the last chance they had to spend a sexy moment with each other. Finally Sniper could enjoy the sight of his lover's naked face, the sweat had wet his hair and as he rocked himself up and down on Sniper's length, Spy's white front lock of hair whipped his face at the rhythm of his thrusts. His face and upper chest were now red too from the effort and the raw force of the pleasure splitting his body in halves.

"Mmh… S-spy… I'm getting close… Oh my God… Please…"

Spy bent down and closed the gap between their chests as he slowed his thrusts down. Their breaths mingled in their moans and the air between them was hotter than anywhere else in the entire desert. Spy's hands went to his lover's face while Sniper's wrapped around him. Their chests slid against each other with ease, both being sweaty as if they had run a marathon. 

"I'm close too…"

But now Spy was rolling his hips seductively. He wanted the last moments to be the most exquisite agony for them both. Sniper looked down and saw his lover's member fully red and swollen. He removed one of his hands from Spy's backside and delicately wrapped his fingers around it. 

"Oh-Sniper! Hss…!"

The Frenchman hissed. 

"C'mere, gimme yer lips. Let's do this together." 

Spy obeyed without the meaning of the words fully hitting his head. He stuck his lips to Sniper's and felt his tongue being lasciviously pushed left and right, slowly. 

"Hmmm, hmm, hmm, hm!"

Spy's moans went higher and higher in pitch up until he couldn't take it anymore and as he cried in his lover's open mouth, Sniper groaned powerfully. Both reached their peaks and stuck to each other in a hard embrace. Sniper felt Spy's hips jolt a few time and his own chest got stained with the proof of the Frenchman's pleasure. Meawhile, he thrusted up and deep in his lover too.

They stayed in each other's arms, still connected, to catch their breaths and make their heartbeats calm down. Their members were tired but still gave the occasional twitch. Sniper looked for Spy's lips and kissed them, tugged at the lower lip before licking it. Both with their eyes closed, Spy answered and pushed Sniper's tongue with his before saying:

"Sniper, I love you so much."

"So do I, darl', you're amazin'. With you, I don't even need to talk for you to know what I want. It's like you're in my head." 

" _ As much and deeper than you are in me now, oui."  _

Spy answered, whipering. He slowly disconnected from his lover and laid on top him while Sniper laced his arms around him and covered his sweaty face with kisses. 

_ "I love you…" _

The sentence diffused in the warm air of the desert like under the gentle breeze of Sniper's whisper.


	57. Spy's jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Sniper was in the Medic’s lab, shirtless, Ludwig began to flirt with Sniper and give him a playful lick in Sniper’s chest but.. In that moment Spy walks to the lab and sees both of them, ooo boy.. Spy was more than angry, he walked outside the lab and slammed the door behind him. In the fight Spy makes sure to make Medic’s life hell, Heavy helps Medic like a body-guard. When it’s over, Sniper ask Spy what’s wrong and the Frenchman burst in tears saying that he only wants Sniper.. “for him..”"

* * *

"They must cost ya a lot." Sniper said.

"What?" Spy asked.

"Your cigs."

Mundy and Lucien were sitting in the elegantly decorated living-room, sharing one of the menthol cigarettes that were Lucien’s favourites. 

"They are quite expensive, but it is the price that I am willing to pay to smoke quality tobacco." 

"You're just too posh, Spook." 

Spy smiled, he wished he could tell him his name. It felt unfair that he knew but Sniper didn’t. But spies, like magicians, never reveal their secrets...

"Call it as you wish, I just know how to tell bad tobacco from exquisite one." 

Sniper rolled his eyes with a smile and puffed on his cigarette. "Ooh - !" Mundy coughed a few times and put a hand on his chest. 

"Are you alright? They are less strong than your cheap ones…"

"Yeah, nah, I'm fine. It's just… I got into a fight with the enemy Spy and uh… He got me quite bad on my chest. I didn't die so I didn't go through respawn and all."

Spy frowned. "What happened?"

"He punched me there and twisted his wrist to slash through me with his bloody knife…!" Sniper pressed his hand against his chest. 

" _ Le fils de…"  _ Spy's eyes jumped from his friend's chest to his lagoon blue eyes. "May I have a look at the wound?" 

_ [The son of a…] _

"Uh, I mean…” Sniper lowered his head, looking down under Spy’s impressive eyes.

“I just want to ascertain whether you needed more medical help.”

“Yeah, nah, I’m fine, it‘s alright.” Sniper put his hand on the buttons of his polo shirt and undid them. He noticed how Spy averted his gaze, looking at the dancing flames of the fireplace for a while.

“Let me just remove the plaster - ouch! It's not much but it's everything' I had lyin' around in my van." Sniper slowly pulled it away wincing at the pain of his chest hair being pulled but the paster.

“May I see?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Do you mind if I get closer?”

“Nah, it’s fine.”

Spy moved from his armchair to his sofa to sit next to Mundy. He bit one of his gloved fingers and pulled to remove it, not noticing the blush on Sniper's face. "Hmm… He slashed through and it's deeper than a mere scratch." Spy inspected the wound and Sniper felt flustered as he could feel the heat from Spy’s very body. He could breathe his expensive cologne and his heart woke up.

"The blood is still dripping too, here…" Spy took a handkerchief from his breast pocket, folded it and pressed on Snier’s chest.

"Spook - ?!" Sniper hissed.

"See? The blood is still flowing. I will take you to Medic without delay, and don't try to argue. Take my handkerchief and keep it pressed on your chest."

Sniper put his hand on the handkerchief and briefly brushed Spy’s bare hand. Sniper’s face went from red to crimson, averting his eyes as if he had caught a lady undressing.

"I'm - uh, I thought a few days and the plaster would be enough…"

"It clearly is not." 

Both stood up and went to the door.

"I am no expert but it seems pretty bad by the looks of it. I will go with you, just for the sake of safety, and to make sure you make it there."

"It's not that far, eh."

" _ Oui _ , but you have lost quite a bit of blood." Spy went to the door and put his hand on the doorknob. 

"Tomorrow…" Spy stayed between Sniper and the door, his back to him. Sniper raised a curious eyebrow, waiting for the rest of the sentence to come. "I will find him and deal with him. He will not bother you on the battlefield." 

"Y-you don't have to." Sniper's voice was apprehensive at how determined and furious Spy sounded. 

"Non, I don't, but I will. He is an embarrassment to spies everywhere and needs to be shown how a true professional works." With that, Spy finally opened the door and both mercenaries walked through the corridors until they arrived at Medic’s quarters. 

"Come in!"

There was an instant, a fleeting moment when Sniper and Spy’s eyes met, ice grey and lagoon blue. Sniper thought he had read something new in his colleague's eyes. 

_ Nah, I must have dreamt it or something…  _ Sniper thought.

"Spy? And Sniper - oh, are you injured?" 

"Yeah, the bastard of a snake got me and well, I didn't think it would be that bad but uh… Spy thought I should come and see you." 

"Follow me to the next room." 

Both followed and Sniper sat on the medical bed. Medic slipped on a pair of gloves and started inspecting the wound closely. 

"Ah, I see… Well, the wound is too deep for it to close on its own, I will need to stitch it back.”

"Nothing too serious then,  _ Docteur?" _

[Doctor]

" _ Nein _ , you may go Spy."

Lucien's shoulders sank down, relieved. 

"How long will it take you?" He asked, heading for the door.

"A few minutes, maybe five or ten."

" _ Bien. _ " Spy turned on his heels and was about to go when -

[Good.]

"Spook?" 

" _ Oui _ ?"

"You still owe me a cig, eh?"

Spy smiled. 

"You are welcome to come whenever you want."

"Yeah, I'll come right after this, or maybe tomorrow."

Spy nodded to both his colleagues and closed the door, his eyes lingering on Sniper until the end. Lucien sighed and went back to his room. 

"Five or ten minutes… How long can it be?" 

And as they say in French,  _ Spy prit son mal en patience _ . He took his longing for Sniper and gulped it down, trying to be as patient as he was able to. Spy sat back on his armchair and read his faithful  _ Dapper Cadaver _ , trying to not take a look at his watch too often.

Quite frankly, he could not care less about the content of the magazine. All his mind was busy with was the promise of a moment, alone, with his special friend. Spy sank in his armchair, extending his feet towards the fireplace. 

If he could have seen himself, he would have mocked his own mellow smile, his heavy-lidded eyes. All that for what? Or rather for _ whom…? _

Spy's eyes landed back on the black printed letters and this time he tried to really read. After all, time flies when one is busy. And indeed time did fly so fast that when he emerged from his magazine again and straightened his back, more than half an hour had passed. He sighed. Well, he would see Sniper the next day… 

Lucien’s light blue eyes went to the sofa, where his friend had been sitting before, and his eyes snapped wide.

" _ Merde, il a oublié son chapeau! _ "

[Shit, he forgot his hat!]

Knowing how dearly Sniper liked his hat, Spy took it in his hand and exited his room to give it back. He first went to the camper van and knocked. 

Nothing. No one and no sounds. Spy glanced at his watch. It was still too early for dinner and it wasn't Sniper's turn to cook so he shouldn't be in the kitchen. Lucien turned on his heels and looked in the living-room of the base, even in the kitchen, just in case, and in the common showers, but to no avail. 

He sighed and winced. Where could Sniper be? Well, the last place he had seen him was Medic's lab but surely he couldn't have stayed there for that long, or could he? Medic had said five minutes, maybe ten, not half an hour. 

Intrigued and confused, Spy headed for the doctor's laboratory, the brown hat in his hand. He gave a knock at Medic's office. No one answered. Lucien pricked his ears up but not a single sound came from that door. However he did hear the voice with the German accent coming from where he had left him to heal Sniper. 

Spy got closer to the door and knocked. 

"C-come in!" 

He frowned as it wasn't Medic's voice which had answered, but Sniper's. Spy opened the door anyway. 

"Sniper, you forgot your h - " 

Lucien froze. Medic had a hand on Sniper's cheek in a way that didn't call for any doubt. Sniper's eyes opened wide when he saw Spy standing there, and they darted from the doctor to the assassin. 

Spy sighed and frowned, lowering his head. 

"You forgot your hat. I shall leave it here. Goodbye." And Spy slammed the door shut so violently that the glass flasks on Medic's shelves against the walls shook under the shock. 

Spy was fuming with rage and he didn't even want to understand why. Trying to understand would make him even more furious. He locked himself up in his room and went straight for a bottle of wine. Spy knew he wouldn't have any dinner apart from alcohol and nicotine that night. He drowned in the bitter beverage and burnt under the ashes of the menthol cigarettes, the excuse he had found to have Sniper come out of his den of a campervan. 

Cigarettes. 

Spy held the one he was smoking in front of his eyes, his glass of wine in the other hand, defeatedly dangling off the armrest of his armchair.

Cigarettes. 

They were the only thing that connected him to the man he wanted to spend more time with. They had taken that habit quite frequently now; It had started with just short smoke breaks, outside of the base. But the more they met, the longer the breaks got until they thought they could do with a seat. That was when Spy had invited Sniper to his living-room and since then, their smoke breaks turned into long evenings of chats and word games. Word games not like scrabble or hangman - the goal to make his friend understand that when he looked into his eyes, he would feel butterflies in his stomach. Sniper was the only musician capable of playing with Spy’s heartstrings, with the delicateness of his shy, hoarse voice, his few, well chosen words. And when Spy managed to catch the slightest shade of pink on Sniper’s cheeks, when he graced him with his sweet smile, Lucien simply had to stare, there was no other way…

However and as soft as all that sounded, it turned out that the handsome Sniper had set his heart on Medic. 

Spy sighed and undid his tie. He then unbuttoned his shirt to ease his neck.

Sniper preferred Medic, and Medic felt the same way too. How long had it been going? Was it before their evenings? Had it been going on all along and Spy was oblivious to it? How could he have missed something that big?

Spy frowned and clenched his jaw. He downed more of his wine and coughed right after. He had sunk so low in his chair that the wine went the wrong way. Lucien straightened his back and cleared his throat.

He put the glass of wine on the coffee table in front of him and crushed his cigarette in the ashtray. Spy was realising that what he felt in fact was a mix of jealousy and heartbreak. He rubbed his eyes and gritted his teeth.

When he felt his heart was made of stone, the only one who had managed to find a crack through which to get to his very core, was Sniper. The only one who had made his heart and his insides warm, with just his presence and his natural kindness, was Sniper. The only man who made SPy human again by creating those feelings he was oblivious to was Mundy.

“Mundy.”

Spy said it. His lips had met for the M and his tongue had hit the top of his palate for the D. The name dissolved in the air and along with it, Spy’s mad hope to say it to  _ his _ face, in an embrace, feeling  _ his  _ warmth diffuse to him. But non, it was all nothing but a fantasy, a wish that no matter how hard he prayed, would never be heard. 

A knock interrupted his bittersweet thoughts.

“Go to hell.” Spy answered between his teeth. 

“What?”

“I said - oh…” Spy’s speech cut short when he realised that the voice he had heard behind his door was none other but Sniper’s. He went to the door and opened it. 

“What is it that you seek with me, Bushman?” Spy could hardly see in the dark corridor but Sniper was holding his hat in his hands, fumbling with it nervously between his fingers.

“Uh, c-can I come in? I need to tell you something’, but not in the corridor.”

“Argh… Fine.” Spy closed his door after his guest. 

“Can I sit down maybe?”

“Do as you please…!” Spy answered, annoyed. 

It was only when they sat down, facing each other, that Sniper realised how disheveled Spy was.

“Are you alright? Y-you look… different?”

“And you, hm? I guess I should apologise for having interrupted your moment with your, ahem,  _ partner…?” _

“My p - No, Spy, you don’t get it - ”

“Oh, but I think I do. You and Medic share your time together. In that case, I should probably apologise for monopolising your time and keeping you away from him.”

“Spy - ”

“Non, non, please, I am a respectful man and I have manners. I owe you these apologies and I am trying my hardest to make them sound as earnest as possible. “

“Stop it, please.”

Spy sighed and let his hand sink from his brow to his chin. “Why did you come here?” he asked.

“T-to give you this back.” Sniper handed the handkerchief that Spy had lent him. 

“I washed and dried it. Well, I left it in on my window to dry but I needed to come and see you so, uh, sorry, it’s still wet.”

Spy nodded and took the handkerchief in his hand. It smelled of the same soap that Sniper used to wash himself.

“Spy… I… I don’t have anything with Medic.”

Spy’s eyes darted from the handkerchief to Sniper’s eyes.

“Do not even try to lie to me, Sniper,” he said calmly, yet he gritted his teeth.

“I’m not, you of all people should know, I can’t lie, lyin’ s for Spooks and - ugh, I didn’t mean it to sound bad, bugger…!” Sniper sighed. “Look, Medic was trying to… get closer to me and I panicked, I just didn’t know what to do. He talked and talked and I was scared shitless. God knows what he could do to me if I refused or if I didn’t at least pretend to play along. So I tried to delay everything as much as I could, and that’s when you knocked. Y-you saved me but you got the wrong impression, I swear Spy, there’s nothing between that maniac and me.”

Spy had stared in Sniper’s eyes. “Swear to me on something that you value.”

“I… I swear on the person I’m… On the bloke I love.”

Spy frowned further. “So you do love a man?”

“Y-yeah. And I swear on his head that there is absolutely nothing between Medic and me.”

“Fine. I believe you.”

Spy thought that, given that it was Sniper who had answered the knocks with a panicked voice, what he said was true. He nonetheless felt disappointed to learn that Sniper’s heart was taken. 

“You may leave if you want.”

“Hold on, how many of these have you smoked?” Sniper looked at the overflowing ashtray on the coffee table in front of him. “And the wine..?”

“You may leave,” Spy repeated coldly, his eyes looking away from Mundy.

“No…” Sniper put his hand on Spy’s and he got startled. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

“Maybe I will one day, but your…  _ man _ is waiting for you. I don’t want to delay you further.”

“Spook, no…”

“No  _ what _ ?”

“I shouldn’t have said that…” Sniper sighed. “I shouldn’t have told you about that bloke…”

“Non, non, it is fine. I just thought that… Bah, nevermind. What I thought matters little.”

“No, it... I… Dammit, why does it have to be so hard?”

“Look, Sniper, if you don’t have anything else to say, you know where the door is.”

Sniper panicked. What would happen if he didn’t find the courage to tell the truth now? Would he go back to the solitude of his van? Would his evenings with Spy end once and for all? He didn’t want that, he didn’t want any of that.

“S-Spy, that bloke I swore on… I need to tell you about him.”

“I am honoured you would trust me about this, Sniper, but I must refuse.”

“Please, please let me just tell you who it is.”

“Non, Sniper, don’t.”

“Spy, I need to.”

“Non.”

“Why?”

Spy took a deep breath. 

“Because… I…” Spy’s daydream got back to him and hit him in the face like a wave of ice cold water. “Mundy…”

Sniper’s eyes snapped wide. 

“Please do not tell me about the man you love, I cannot bear it.” Spy’s imploring eyes forced Sniper to gather his courage and tell the truth.

“It’s you. Spy, I…”

Spy’s face spun to meet Mundy’s eyes and even with the balaclava on, Sniper saw the red on Lucien’s upper cheeks.

“I love you.” Sniper was panting, the air was scarce in the room and his throat was dry. “I’ll go now if you want.” He put his hat on his head to hide his flustered and uncomfortable face. 

“Non, stay…” Spy threw his hands on his friend’s. “Is it true?” 

“I swear on your head, even if I’ve never seen it completely,” he said, head lowered to stare at the floor. “I love you.”

“Sniper…?”

“I-I’ll just go… I, uh…”

Spy clenched his fingers around his fingers and pulled his hands strongly to him. Under the force of the pull, Sniper’s entire upper buddy bent forward and his lips landed on Spy’s. They locked in place and stayed there for long seconds where both blacked out of reality, they didn’t know what day it was, where they were and who they were anymore.

“W-why?” Sniper asked as their faces were only a few inches apart.

“Because I love you too and I’ve drunk and smoked my jealousy away…”

“You were jealous?”

“Of course!” Spy’s hand went to Sniper’s cheek. “When I saw Medic’s hand on your cheek I thought I would go mad. I could have killed him, I could have shredded him and spread his parts across the world for no one to find. But…”

“But what?”

Spy’s thumb brushed the cheek of the man his heart was beating for.

“But I thought that you  _ loved _ him. And if Medic could make you smile more than I did, then he shall live, to make your life complete, even though the sight of it all ripped me and my heart apart.” 

“Bloody hell… You were jealous…”

Spy nodded and put his forehead against Sniper’s. “That’s how much I have been possessed by your charms, I’m afraid.”

“My charms? My… Shut up and c’mere…” Sniper pulled Spy by his hand and kissed him. He continued to pull him such that Lucien moved from his armchair to the sofa; first sat next to his lover, and later, both lying on the sofa, saying in the twist of a lip and in their embrace the million emotions that moved their souls, as they melted in each other’s arms.


	58. Mundy's return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hello again! I hope im not bothering you, Mundy was gone for how many years...he was still in a mannco, while Lucien is already retired for being a spy. Lu was totally miss sniper. He can't handle it already for being alone. He thought that his lover was already death. But soon, Mundy ( looks totally different he has a long beard, lots of scars in his arms) came back. "

* * *

_ “Bonjour” _

[Hello.]

Lucien entered his usual bakery in Paris and didn't even have to say what he wanted. The baker knew him and his routine: one baguette and two croissants. 

_ "Ajoutez deux éclairs au chocolat, s'il vous plaît." _

_ [Add two chocolate éclairs, please.] _

The ex-Spy paid what he owed and returned to the solitude of his flat, poured some coffee in a cup, and sat on his table, reading the newspaper.

He had retired years ago now and it had been about the hardest decision to make. Although, in truth, it hadn't been his at all. He had been injured beyond what Medic could repair and it was a miracle that he didn't completely bust his kneecap. Ah, that shot from Team Vanguard's Sniper…. However, it was enough to put a stop to his contract with Mann Co. and to his entire career. 

But his damaged knee did not only put a sudden end to his career. Back when he was a Spy, Lucien shared his life with a friend who turned into a lover. More than that, Sniper turned out to understand him more and better than any previous romantic conquest ever before, and Lucien let himself fall in love as deeply as he could ever be. 

They shared their days, their meals and their nights together, becoming inseparable, yet remaining professional on the battlefield. They went by Spy and Sniper at work, and Lucien and Mundy when they were on their own. 

What a luxury for Spy, to have a lover who could know and did know that he was a Spy. There was very little left that Lucien could hide from him and so he trusted Mundy with everything, from his body to his thoughts. Even the darkest corners of his mind he shared with him. Not only he could, but he also felt safe enough in the strong arms of the man his heart beat for. 

It had never changed. Lucien still loved him. There wasn't a day where he didn't think about Mundy, there wasn't a moment where he didn't crave his presence. But it had been years now, and if he recalled correctly, it would have been their seventh anniversary on that very day. 

Lucien stared at the box containing the chocolate  _ éclairs _ he had bought. It was on the table in front of him. Those were Mundy's favourite pastries and he loved them too. Anytime they needed to celebrate something, or if he just wanted to treat him, Lucien would buy some. He had kept the habit even though Mundy wasn't with him anymore. 

When he had left Mann Co., both of them decided that it would be better to not try and keep in touch. They loved each other too much to just write letters or phone each other. What they had shared was so much stronger than that. 

Often, Lucien wondered if Mundy too thought about him or if he just had forgotten and moved on. Maybe he had found someone else, maybe he had managed to turn the page. But not Lucien. He had gotten rid of most objects that reminded him of Mann Co., in an effort to try and forget, but of course it ended up doing the exact opposite. 

Each new day that God made, Lucien missed Mundy more. From the moment he would wake up, in a bed that was too large, empty and cold, to his meals that he would have with the sound of the clock, counting the ticks and tocks that separated him from his loved one. 

There were days where Lucien wouldn't exit his flat at all, and he wouldn't even open his blinds. The world asked too much of his energy and facing it alone was above him. That was on days where the weather wasn't too cold. When winter hit, it usually meant for Lucien that his knee would trouble him more than usual, and his cane wasn't enough to help him walk.

He sighed. Every year he would celebrate the anniversary alone. It reminded him of when he was a child. He would spend his birthdays more or less alone too, as Lucien had always been a man of very few friends. But celebrating it on his own did not mean that he should not do it properly. He went to his room and dressed up accordingly. 

Black socks, garters, Burgundy striped trousers, white shirt, dark red tie, Burgundy striped jacket, black gloves. Ah, and of course, the matching balaclava. 

He had got rid of  _ almost _ all the objects that reminded him of Mundy, but not the suit. Non, it was the one that Mundy had touched, sometimes just lightly, a tap on the shoulder, other times fiercely, almost to the point of ripping it apart to get to Lucien's hot bare skin. 

His skin prickled as if he could feel it all again. Lucien raised his head to his mirror and looked at himself. He pushed the front grey lock of hair which, as usual, stuck out of the mask, and adjusted the balaclava, like a sad clown tired to put on a show; because that was exactly what it was, a show. A comedy for the cynical and a tragedy for Lucien himself.

He frowned at his reflection. That was it, he was him again. He was Spy. 

_ Spook. _

His ears pricked up as if he could hear it for real, Mundy's voice calling him. Lucien took a deep breath and sighed.

And he proceeded to spend his entire day roleplaying as his past, happier self. He even faked a few grins, here and there. The first one hurt his lips, and the ones that followed asked almost too much of his energy. Pff… And to think he used to be a spy, paid to pretend and lie. Now, he couldn't even fake a smile. 

Spy took his cane and walked out of his flat. He needed to see it. He needed to see people's awkward looks at his mask, at the ridiculous uniform. He held his cane in his hand and walked without it for a few steps, pretending that he was Spy again. And people stared more at his physical appearance than his limp.

He walked, took step after step, feeling his entire right leg and thigh weigh a ton, his knee screaming in pain. But Lucien bit his cheek and frowned. No amount of physical pain compared to the emptiness in his heart. He wasn't doing it for himself alone, he was doing it  _ for them,  _ because the last time he wore that suit and it made sense, he didn't need his cane. Mundy was there to help him, holding him close, and the pain in his knee was drowned by the love he felt for the handsome Australian.

Eventually, Lucien found a bench and sat down. Like a reflex, his hand went to his breast pocket and he opened his cigarette case. He used his silver lighter and a flame sprang up. 

He stayed there, lazily watching people come and go, cars and buses passing by. He was used to the weird stares at his face wearing a mask. But somehow it felt different. He used to ignore them because he knew he was handsome. Lucien only had to look at how Mundy gazed at him to see his own beauty. And nothing would get to him, nothing at all. 

That was all gone now. 

Lucien lifted himself up from the bench and headed back home. He closed and locked his door. He didn't use to be the paranoid type and lock his door all the time, and he still wasn't. However, he needed to close the door, he needed to isolate himself from the rest of the world. The Earth had kept on spinning like a mad tip-top in space, but Lucien's life had stopped long ago. 

He rested his cane next to his chair as he sat down, and raised his eyes to the clock. It was the evening now and if he had still been working for Mann Co., he would have been with Mundy in his smoking room. Now would have been the right moment for it… 

Lucien put his gloved hands on the closed box containing the pastries and made it slide closer to him on the table. He removed his mask and carded his salt and pepper hair back with his fingers. Lucien gulped down hard as he slowly opened the box. Soon, he saw the two chocolate  _ éclairs _ lying there and sighed. It was almost as if part of him expected to open the box and find Mundy there… Ridiculous… 

A knock on the door interrupted his train of thought. He grumbled and frowned as he said:

_ "Allez-vous-en!" _

_ [Go away!] _

The knocks started again and it got on his nerves. 

_ "J'ai dit: allez-vous-en! Allez vendre vos gadgets et vos balivernes à quelqu'un d'autre!" _

_ [I said: go away! Go sell your gadgets and your lies to someone else!] _

Silence fell for a second and Lucien sighed in relief… But the knocks started yet again. 

_ "Grand Dieu…" _

_ [Good Lord…] _

Lucien pulled his leg out from underneath the table and grabbed his cane. He stood up and walked to the door, determined to scare whoever was disturbing him. He would have still got angry if it was another day but today was special, sacred. No one and nothing should and could disturb him. 

The keys jingled as he unlocked the door and Lucien opened it aggressively. 

_ "Mon Dieu, vous ne pouvez pas me - ?" _

_ [My God, can't you leave me - ?] _

Lucien's sentence broke and his knees went to jelly, he started collapsing and the man in front of him caught him just in time. 

"Oh, careful, mate, eh… You used to stand better than that last time I saw you." 

"N-non…"

Lucien found some strength to stand on his own and put his hand on the man's cheek. There was a beard now there, dark brown by the looks of it, but impeccably trimmed. Lucien realised that his glove was in the way, he bit it and pulled it away before putting his hand on the man's cheek again, just to make sure it wasn't his head playing tricks on him.

"It can't be…" 

"Can we come in?" 

"O-oui, of course." 

Lucien shut the door and dragged his leg to sit on the sofa next to the man he would recognise anywhere. 

"Is that you?" He asked when they were both sitting next to each other. His eyes darted on every square millimetre of the man's face in utter shock.

"Did I change that much? Alright, the beard... I kept the glasses and the hat though… But  _ you _ haven't changed a bit. You even still wear the suit! Such a Spook you are…" 

Lucien's breath cut short, his nose stinging all of a sudden and his eyes warmed up too fast to hold himself back. He burst out sobbing and pulled Mundy closer to himself, crying on his chest. 

"Hey now…? It's alright, I'm here, it's ok…"

Mundy wrapped his arms around Lucien and held him close while he sobbed and sobbed relentlessly. 

"I'm sorry, maybe I should have sent you a card, or called or somethin'. I just thought it'd be better to make it a surprise."

"I missed you… I missed you so much… I missed you so… much…" 

Lucien tried to speak between two sobs. Mundy let his fingers slide through his lover's hair and pulled his head against him even more. 

"I missed you too." He kissed his head. "I'm sorry to make you cry. I meant it to be a happy thing and now you're cryin'..."

Lucien pulled himself away from his lover's embrace and took a minute to calm himself down. He dried his tears and took a few deep breaths before looking up at the man he would have died to see again. He removed his other glove and cupped his face. 

"It's really you, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is. Took me ages to find you, you slitherin' Spook, but I finally did a few weeks ago. And uh… I don't know if you remember but it would have been seven years today." 

Lucien let his thumbs brush his lover's beard again.

"You think I would have forgotten? It is precisely why I dressed up like this!"

"Wait, what?" 

"Oh, and wait!" 

Lucien jumped on his left leg to stand up rapidly and awkwardly walked as fast as he could to the table. He closed the box that he had left there again, and came back to the sofa, almost collapsing on it. 

"Hey, take it easy! Don't want the handsome rogue to bust his other knee eh?"

Lucien landed in Mundy's arms and chuckled. He handed him the white laminated cardboard box. 

"What's that?" Mundy asked.

"It - it's for you and me." 

"Well in that case, here's for you too." 

Mundy handed him a plastic bag.

"But how did you buy somethin' for us, you didn't know I was coming?"

"I do it anyway. Every year I…" Lucien felt uncomfortable as he now realised how stupid and delusional it all was. 

Mundy put his hand on Lucien's shoulder. 

"Go ahead, tell me."

"It's… Ridiculous." 

"Well, not half as ridiculous as falling for a bloke you'd never seen the face of, eh? Or never stopping to love him for years until you go mad and just bang your fist on the table, leave your work and everything for him?" Mundy chuckled and Lucien smiled. "It's only me mate, go on." 

"Fine… Every year on this special day, I dress up as, well, as the Spy I was when I met you. I put the suit and tie on, even the mask, and I spend the entire day like that."

Mundy frowned. 

"Why?" 

"Because… Because it's the closest I could be to being with you for real. I also buy a similar box to the one you have in your hand. Open it, please." 

Mundy delicately lifted the lid and his eyebrows arched high up, his lips pursing in the sweetest smile. 

"You didn't forget about the lightnin' pastries, eh?" Mundy eyes went up to meet his lover's.

Lucien smiled.

"And you remember that  _ éclair _ means lightning?"

"I can't really forget any French you taught me." 

"And I can't forget your tastes in pastries."

They stared in each other's eyes for a while, just rediscovering their colours, their shapes and their shine.

"But Lu', go ahead and open yours." 

Lucien's eyes snapped wide at the mention of his nickname. Mundy was the only one ever in his life to call him that. 

"Y'alright?" 

Lucien shook his head and cleared his throat. 

"Oui, oui sorry, I uh, I shall open this." He put the box that was in the plastic bag on his lap and slowly opened it. When his eyes met with its content, he bit his lip to hold himself back from tearing up again. 

"Yeah, I got the same thing too…" Mundy said. "I didn't think you'd buy some yerself. I thought that… Maybe you'd forgotten about it and uh, about me. Maybe you found someone else, you're as good-looking as when you left so…"

"Nonsense." Lucien answered. "Find someone else? Me? Non, of course not. You are the only person I want. I don't want anyone else, how could I? You are the only one I trust."

Mundy smiled and softened. 

"And you? Are you with someone else?" Lucien asked. 

"Nah. I did try, y'know, to get you out of my head… But you never really went away and I kept comparin' people to you. It never worked with anyone and in the end I just faced it: I love no one else but you. But we've got time to talk about this. First, we eat the lightnin' pastries before they flash away. I'll eat one from your box and you eat one from mine, ok?" 

Lucien nodded and took one of the  _ éclairs _ in his hand. They both raised their pastries and tipped them as if they were pints of beer. 

"To us, luv'." 

Lucien's eyes glistened. 

_ "À nous…" _ He gulped down, his throat was dry, before he answered.  _ "Mon amour." _

[To us… My love…]

And they both bit in their  _ éclairs  _ at the same time, smiling into the soft pastry, the fresh chocolate cream meeting their tongues in the sweetest embrace.

Lucien could not believe that he was sitting here, on his sofa, with Mundy next to him eating their favourite sweet delicacy on the seventh year of their romantic adventure. Mundy couldn't help but lace his arm around Lucien and sit back, and Lucien used his lover's chest as a pillow. 

"How I've missed all this…" 

"Me too, luv', me too. It almost seems like a dream, or like we're doing something forbidden." 

" _ Oui,  _ it is true. I… You will mock me but I can hardly believe I am not hallucinating this whole situation."

"Yeah, same here." Mundy licked his fingers. "So, uh, what have you been up to?"

"Missing you." Lucien answered as he closed his eyes, his head rising and falling to the rhythm of Mundy's breath. 

"Yeah, I meant apart from that. Anythin' new?"

"Hm…" Lucien tried thinking about anything remotely interesting but couldn't find anything. "Non, I'm afraid." 

"You haven't picked up somethin' over all those years, like a hobby or something?"

"Non." 

"You poor thing…" Mundy kissed his lover on his head again and Lucien clenched his fingers on his chest.

"What about you,  _ mon amour?" _

_ [My love] _

"I uh… I'm a barber now." 

"What?!" Lucien raised his head off his lover's chest. "Really?" 

"Yeah, what do you think about my beard? I trimmed it myself. I had my hair cut by a friend though cause uh, well, you can't really do it on your own head. But yeah, what d'you think?" 

Lucien's eyes devoured Mundy. 

"I find you even more handsome than when I left. It makes you look older, and it is not a complaint at all, I like it very much." Lucien inspected the beard. "And that is some great job, I can hardly see any imperfections. Your beard is magnificent, it shines almost too much!"

"I put some oil to take care of it. If you ever want to grow one, I can help you, there's some good stuff out there to have it grow nice and shine bright." 

Lucien's eyelids fluttered under the surprise. 

"What? You don't want to grow a beard?" Mundy asked. 

"That is besides the point, I'm, I'm just speechless… I remember when you used to mock me because I use a hand cream! And listen to you now, using oil to take care of your beard and such…!"

Mundy laughed and Lucien's heart woke up almost violently in his chest. It had been years that he hadn't heard that rough laughter, from that special hoarse voice. 

"Speakin' of, gimme your hand." 

Mundy took Lucien's hand and put it under his nose.

"You old man, you never change, do you? Still usin' the same vanilla hand cream, eh?" 

Lucien chuckled. 

"Oui, I am. You know me, I don't like to change my habits."

Mundy slid his fingers between Lucien's. 

"Yeah." 

Silence fell in the room. Lucien laid his head on Mundy's chest again and listened to his heartbeat right below his ear, while Mundy played with Lucien's hair. It was all back as it had been years before, only it wasn't in Mann Co. but in Paris. 

"Mundy?" 

"Yeah?" 

Lucien opened his eyes and looked up. He only saw part of Mundy's masculine jaw from below.

"How long are you staying?"

"Well, I-I don't really know, luv'." 

"Oh…" 

Mundy heard the disappointment in Lucien's voice.

"It might be just a few days or longer." 

"Why are you so unsure? Do you have obligations elsewhere?"

"Not really."

"Why then?"

"Depends." 

"On what?" 

"On you." Mundy answered and Lucien's head jumped off his chest. 

"What do you mean 'it depends on me'?"

"Well, d'you want me to stay?" Mundy asked with a smirk. 

"Of course I do…! And you, do you want to stay?" Lucien asked back. 

"I just want to be with you. Here, elsewhere, on the bloody Moon if that's what you want. I just want to have you next to me all the time. It was too hard without you, I don't want that ever again."

Lucien melted on his lover's chest hearing those words. He laid his head on it again.

"Neither do I. Please, Mundy…?"

"Yeah, what?" 

"Stay with me." Lucien pleaded with his voice. 

"Yeah, I will. But first, look up here, luv'." 

Lucien did as he was told and saw the most beautiful lagoon blue eyes on his own. Mundy's hand slid from Lucien's hair to behind his neck and pulled him in closer. They rested their forehead against each other's. 

"I love you, Lu'." 

Lucien closed his eyes and bit his lip. 

" _ Je t'aime aussi." _

_ [I love you too.] _

Mundy bent forward and his lips brushed past Lucien's, just grazing them. He didn't know if it was too much or maybe he was going too fast. But no, Lucien cupped Mundy's face and pulled it even more. Their lips met. After years of yearning, longing, craving. Finally, their lips met again.

Mundy felt Lucien's lips trembling. He opened his eyes and backed off slightly. Tears were silently streaming down Lucien's face, his eyes were red and slightly swollen. 

"You poor thing, I'm never leaving you again." 

"Please don't." 

And those words were the last they exchanged on the sofa. More was said after Mundy stood up and carried Lucien in his arms. But those words shall remain in the secrecy of their room, under the duvet.

  
  
  
  
  
  



	59. In the forest - spicy edition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hi! ♥️ How about... Spy and Snipes have a picnic in the forest and things get spicy? I love picnics and forests "

* * *

Mundy was familiar with long road trips but Lucien, much less so. That explained why in the middle of the day and even though he was sitting next to his lover, Lucien had fallen asleep. Mundy cast a glance over him, the road in front of him being as empty as it could be, and saw Lucien sleeping peacefully and silently. 

In fact, Lucien slept so silently that Mundy sometimes wondered whether he still breathed or not. But he had tested it countless times and yes, Lucien was just being as he was at work, extremely silent.

Mundy smiled. Seeing his lover asleep was so endearing. No one, especially not the members of the opposite team, could imagine that the silent and sneaky assassin could look that defenseless. 

Mundy saw a bit of sweat on his lover's brow so he opened the window just enough for a gentle breeze to cool him down. Lucien's grey lock of hair at the front waved under the soft wind and he soon opened his eyes. 

"Oh, I fell asleep…"

"Again, yeah." 

Lucien rubbed his eyes gently to wake up completely. 

"How long have you been driving? I hope you did take a break. And you are sure you don't want to let me drive a bit?"

Mundy smiled sweetly. He put his hand against Lucien's cheek and the Frenchman leaned in to get more of the touch. He was maskless and thus, felt all the warmth from Mundy's palm.

"Don't worry, we're almost there." 

"But you must be tired, non?" 

"Nah, not when I'm drivin' for you."

Lucien smiled in Mundy's hand. 

_ "Je t'aime." _

_ [I love you.] _

"So do I. But yeah, look, green." Mundy pointed at the forest in the distance. 

"Is that where you are taking me?"

"Yeah, it's a very vast forest. Not many people go there and there's even a lake, quite pretty to be honest." 

"Oh… Thank you." 

Mundy's hand slid down to Lucien's slim thigh. 

"You're welcome. It's been a long time since I wanted to take you there and I figured we could spend the weekend just you and me, the trees, fresh air..." 

"Whenever and wherever you want, as long as I am with you." Lucien answered and put his hand on Mundy's. 

About an hour later, Mundy parked the van and both stepped out. They took a couple of minutes stretching under the shade of the tree leaves. 

"Mon Dieu… How long did you drive for in the end?" 

Mundy opened the van's backdoor and slipped in to retrieve two backpacks. He handed one to Lucien who put it on his back without protesting.

"About five, maybe six hours." 

They shut the van's door and Mundy took Lucien by the hand. 

" _Mon Dieu!_ And how many breaks did you take?" 

"Three I think."

Mundy started walking, his gloved hand in Lucien's who had removed part of his uniform to just stay in his white shirt and tie, as well as his red striped trousers.

"Did you stretch like I asked you?"

"Well…" 

Lucien saw in Mundy's hesitation that the answer to his question was no. 

"But Mundy, I told you to, it's important to get your blood flowing once every couple of hours."

"I know but… I couldn't leave you alone in the van."

"I was asleep, what did you imagine, that I was faking it and I would run away with your van?" 

"No, nah, it just felt wrong. So whenever I stopped, I just drank a bit of water and watched you sleep. I also tried to undo your tie to make you more comfy, but I was too scared I'd wake you up, knowing how light your sleep is." 

"And I did wake up."

"Did you? Argh, bugger, I'm sorry…"

Lucien stopped walking for an instant and smiled. 

"Don't apologise, you looked adorable with your eyes crossing and your tongue sticking out…" Lucien smirked.

"Oi, I didn't do any of that!" Mundy blushed and resumed their stroll. 

" _ Oui,  _ you did, I saw you."

"Your eyes were closed!"

"Not entirely."

Mundy grumbled in shame while Lucien chuckled. 

"Aw, it is fine, I will let you undo my tie later if you want."

Mundy glanced down at Lucien who winked at him in a malicious way. 

"Unless you don't want to…?"

"W-what? No, no I-I'd love to!"

Mundy bit his lip at what bursted out of his lips and Lucien's smile widened. He didn't look up at the man whose cheeks turned crimson, to not embarrass him further. 

"Oh, is that the lake that you mentioned?" 

"Yeah, that's the one."

"It's very large and very calm. I can't see anyone around it." 

"Yeah…"

They took a minute to appreciate the view, the lake was spread before their eyes, its colour blue or rather turquoise. Lucien leaned in to Mundy's side and he laced an arm around him. 

"Let's find somewhere calm and in the shade." Mundy said as he resumed their walk.

"I am following you." 

They managed to find a weeping willow quite close to the shore of the lake and both got to work. Mundy smiled as he saw Lucien roll up his sleeves and try to assemble their tent. 

"Let me help you, luv'." 

" _ Non _ , I want to try on my own first, please."

"You sure?"

" _ Oui.  _ You drove for hours, the least I could do is build the tent." 

"Alright," Mundy bent down and left a kiss behind his lover's neck. "I'll have a look around, see if I can find us something to grill for tonight."

"Fine."

Mundy took the bow and quiver that was tied to his backpack. 

"Mundy?" 

"Yeah?" 

And Mundy saw the most beautiful light blue irises on him. 

"Be careful,  _ d'accord?" _

_ [Alright?] _

He smiled. 

"Of course, although  _ you _ look like you're fighting against the tent... It shouldn't take me more than half an hour. You stay safe too, ok?" 

Lucien nodded as Mundy started heading further from the lake.

"And don't lose your fight with the tent, eh?" He added with a chuckle. Lucien answered by rolling his eyes and shooing him away and leave him to focus. 

And Mundy disappeared in the trees. Lucien spread all the bits for the tent on the ground and looked at them each intensely, trying to visualise the final product and how could he get there. 

Meanwhile, Mundy was walking as silently as he could, his ears pricked up and his senses all standing at attention. He wasn't looking for anything too big as it was only to share between Lucien and him. So he let the occasional deer or boar pass by without going for them. It was only when a rabbit stood up, with his ears pointing straight, that Mundy took an arrow from his quiver and readied himself. He knew he didn't have much time before the rabbit would flee. He held his breath and pulled the string of the arrow back. 

_ Steady, steady… _

Mundy let the string fly go and the arrow flew straight, splitting the still air below the natural foliage ceiling. It pierced the rabbit's skull and the small creature collapsed on the ground. 

"Aces!" 

Mundy went to retrieve his game and headed back to where he left Lucien and the backpacks. It took him a few minutes and soon, he saw the small camp. 

"Lu'? Darl', that's amazing!"

Not only did he settle the tent but he also lit a small fire next to it. He had found a log that he managed to roll next to it too for them both to sit on. 

"Where did you learn all that?" 

"Same as for my knife techniques, during my time in the army."

Mundy put his hunting equipment down and sat by Lucien. 

"Your time in the army? You served in the army?" 

"The secret services are a branch of the army,  _ oui,  _ and as such, part of my training was done with soldiers. That's where I learnt how to make a fire and other survival skills." 

"Did you learn how to deal with that?" 

Mundy handed him the rabbit as he pulled the arrow out of it. Lucien removed his gloves and took it as he tilted his head on the side. 

"It is not dead yet." 

He flipped his blade open as he took it off his breast pocket and quickly ended the poor creature's suffering. 

"And to answer your question, may I try?" 

"Yeah, go ahead, I'll sit here and watch." 

Lucien took the flapping end of his tie and threw it behind his neck before starting to remove the rabbit's fur. Mundy watched closely as he saw him open it and empty it of its guts. 

"Hm…" 

Lucien looked left and right. He went a bit further away, his hand holding the rabbit's insides. Mundy saw him dig a hole with his blade before pouring them in and covering it back with the dirt. He then washed his blade in the lake a few feet away from Mundy and sat back. Then, Lucien started cutting the rabbit's legs and its head neatly. 

"Look at you go… You know how to deal with things here much better than I thought you would!"

"Just because I wear a suit does not mean that I do not enjoy being in a forest, or I can't enjoy nature, more broadly speaking."

"Yeah, but there's a difference between enjoying and knowing how to deal with it." 

"You are right." 

"And in any case, you never showed or talked about all these things. I just thought you were a city man and I'd have to show you everything." 

Lucien heard a hint of disappointment in Mundy's voice. 

"Oh… I'm sorry,  _ mon amour." _

_ [My love.] _

"No, no, it's fine, I just… I thought I'd share more what I know with you but turns out you know as much as I do…" 

" _ Non, _ there are things I do not know, one that I want you to show me in particular." 

Mundy's eyes lit up. 

"Yeah, what is it?" 

"I will tell you after dinner." 

"Alright."

"Also, here, I have finished cutting the rabbit. Do you want to grill it for us?" 

"Yeah, give it to, me… Cool, thanks, luv', I'll get busy with it."

"Thank you, I will wash my hands in the lake meanwhile." 

Soon after, Lucien was leaning on Mundy's shoulder as he was making sure that the rabbit's legs were grilling nicely. The sky slowly turned darker and the temperature started dropping but their dinner warmed them up nicely. 

"You were right." Lucien said as they both started their dinner.

"About what?"

"I haven't seen a single person walking around here." 

"Yeah, not a lot of folks come here. It's quite far from any city. I guess people don't like to drive a lot. Hm, this bit here grilled nicely, take a bite."

Mundy held the rabbit's leg in front of Lucien's mouth and he bit in.

"Hm, it's very hot, Mundy!" Lucien fanned himself and chewed quickly.

"Oh, sorry love, I should have said…"

Lucien gulped it down. 

"Non, it's fine. And you were right, that bit was excellent."

"Here, take it."

"Non, non, I can't."

"Yeah, you can, just take it."

"Non, we share, please."

"Alright, c'mere…" Mundy took a bite and held it in front of Lucien's mouth for him to bit again. "And what were you sayin' about the forest…?"

"That it is really peaceful."

"Yeah." 

An owl hooted in the distance and they could only hear the wind brushing the branches and the leaves of the weeping willow under which they had settled. 

"Like the rabbit?" 

"Oui, it lacks a few spices but -"

"Oh, right, yeah, let me ask the squirrels in the forest, maybe they can lend me some, eh?"

"Mundy...?"

"Or maybe that deer I saw earlier, maybe he was carrying some herbs or somethin', I forgot to ask!"

"Hey!" 

Lucien nudged him with his elbow. 

"I was simply making suggestions for next time!"

"I know, but I love seeing that face you make when I tease you." Mundy scooted over to stick himself to Lucien. "You wrinkle up your nose and yer eyes shine and… Oh, uh, look, we finished this bit. Want more?" 

"Non, I am full, thank you."

"Right, I'll put the fire out…"

Lucien washed his hands in the lake while Mundy made sure the fire was dead.

"Alright, I'm done with the fire." 

Lucien was already in the tent and Mundy slipped in. 

"Oh, you laid out the cover and prepared everything already?" 

Lucien switched on the torch and Mundy smiled. He saw Lucien lying on his side with his head propped on his hand. 

"Why the smile?" Lucien asked.

"I don't know, you just look nice." Mundy dived to Lucien's lips. 

"I do pay attention to my looks." 

"Oh, I know… Mister I-have-as-many-creams-as-a-sheila…!"

"Hey! If I hadn't, your lips would still be constantly chapped and your hands would never be as hydrated as they are now!"

"Yeah, yeah…" Mundy pressed his lips on Lucien again, his hand brushing his side. "But tell me…"

"Oui?" 

Mundy looked Lucien in the eye.

"What did you want me to show you?" 

"First, I have a promise to keep,  _ mon amour." _

_ [My love.] _

"Oh, what promise?" 

"I have to let you undo my tie." 

Mundy's eyes flashed in the dimness of the tent and Lucien saw it, his lips pursed in a smile. 

"Ah, yeah, you do, I had almost forgotten, c'mere…" 

Lucien raised his head slightly, still lying on his side while Mundy was on his stomach, struggling to undo the knot. 

"Do you need some help?" 

"Nah…"

"I would suggest lifting my collar first, to have better access."

"Ah, yeah." Mundy followed Lucien's advice.

"Now, try without closing one eye. You are not aiming through a scope, closing one eye won't zoom in on my neck!" Lucien said chuckling.

"Oi, I'm just - it's a reflex, ok? Like you, you see a back and I guess you want to stab it, don't you?"

"Not if it's yours, then I just want to  _ scratch it." _

Mundy blushed. Lucien had a way to make his voice push the meaning of his words powerfully. He had spoken slowly and softly, his seductive accent a bit stronger than usual, just what it needed for Mundy's ears to burn…

"Are you sure you don't need any help?"

"Nah, I'll do it… I just need to figure out which bit I need to pull on… And it's quite dark… Oh! Gotcha!" 

Mundy pulled and the soft fabric on the tie slid against Lucien's collar. 

"Well done." 

"Thanks, darl'." Mundy pushed himself forward to kiss his lover again, putting a hand behind his neck to pull him in more. "But wait - " Mundy interrupted the kiss again. "You still haven't told me what you want me to show you." 

"Can't you guess…?" Lucien answered, an eyebrow raised like an invitation. He turned the light of the torch to be lower and under the red tent, the light glowed in pink. Only their eyes cut through it. Very light blue for one, lagoon blue for the other. 

"Removing my tie was only the first step." Lucien rolled to be on top of Mundy. He kissed him passionately, running his fingers through his hair while feeling Mundy's brushing his sides. 

"I want you…"

There was a kiss. 

"To show me…"

Their lips met and parted in a lapping noise. 

"How you would…"

Mundy pulled Lucien against him harder. 

"Make love to me here." 

Mundy's eyes snapped wide. 

"W-what? What d'you mean?" 

Lucien put his forehead on Mundy's. 

"I have never had a story so meaningful with someone that I accepted for them to take me where  _ they _ want, as a surprise, without me knowing. I distrust people way too much for that." Lucien explained. 

"And yet you're in this tent, in a forest, by a lake with me." 

" _ Oui. _ You are different. You know me." Lucien explained as he caressed Mundy's face, his eyebrow, his nose and his lips. "You know me and me, I…" He sighed. "May I say it in French, please?" 

"Yeah, but slowly."

_ "Je t'aime, pour de vrai. Je sais que ça n'est absolument pas professionnel et que tu ne ressens sûrement pas la même chose mais… Quand je te dis que je t'aime, je t'aime vraiment." _

_ [I love you, for real. I know that it is absolutely not professional and that you surely do not feel the same way but… When I say that I love you, I mean it, for real.] _

Mundy's breath had cut short and sharp. He blushed beyond red and he didn't know what to say, how to answer. 

"I know that this entire, uh,  _ adventure _ of ours only started because of, well,  _ physical needs _ , but I think I owe you the truth Mundy."

"I…" 

Mundy was at a loss for words. He simply pulled Lucien to himself and hugged him dearly. Now that he wasn't staring into his eyes, he whispered. 

"I think I love you for real too. I don't know… I just don't want you to go anywhere without me, I want to see you smile, I want to be there for you."

Mundy felt Lucien kiss his neck and bury his head deeper in his neck. 

"And you've never been camping before?" 

" _ Non,  _ not with someone I love."

"Lu'? Look at me for a minute." 

Lucien did as he was told and Mundy cupped his face. 

"I've never lied when I said I love you."

"You never say it." Lucien said and Mundy's eyebrows jumped. "It's always me saying it to you and you saying 'me too', but you never say it yourself…" 

"Hey, luv'..."

Lucien's eyes locked onto Mundy's deep blue irises. 

"I love you. I adore you. I'm mad about you and I think… You're wrong."

Lucien's eyebrows jumped in surprise. 

"I didn't just spend moments with you for eh, y'know…  _ the physical needs. _ I've been in love with you since day one."

" _ Quoi?!" _

_ [What?!] _

Mundy's thumbs were brushing Lucien's cheeks. 

"Yeah, I was just… I didn't know if I should tell you or not so I pretended I didn't love you b-but in fact I really do."

Lucien closed his eyes and put his forehead on Mundy's. 

_ "Je t'aime." _

_ [I love you.] _

"I've been lovin' you forever and uh… Lu'?"

Lucien opened his eyes. 

"If tonight is our first uh,  _ real night _ … I'll make you remember it."

Mundy rolled so that he was now towering Lucien. He kissed his lips, his tongue lasciviously darting in and out, breaking Lucien's breath and taking it away. At the same time, Mundy pulled Lucien's shirt apart. Some buttons flew but neither of them cared, especially not Lucien who was feeling overwhelmed. Mundy yanked his polo shirt up and out of the way while Lucien got rid of his shirt and tanktop he was wearing underneath. 

As soon as he was done, Mundy took Lucien's hands in his and pinned them to the ground, right and left from his head. Their fingers slid between each other's and Mundy's lips travelled down Lucien's neck. He started biting and growling. It needed to be as intense as him realising that he  _ loved _ Lucien not just with his lust but with everything else. 

_ "Gosh I love you…" _

He lapped at the skin under Lucien's ear. 

_ "I bloody love you…" _

He bit again and Lucien bit his lip to suppress a cry. 

_ "You hear me? I love you, and I want you so much…" _

Mundy's mouth moved down, his fingers still clenched around Lucien's and he spent some time on his chest. He licked the deep pink skin there, his tongue swirling around it. 

_ "You make me want you so damn much…" _

He bit again and Lucien's body jerked up with a high-pitched moan. 

_ "Hm… You like it…?"  _

Lucien managed to free his hands from Mundy's and he grasped his hair powerfully between his fingers.

"I love you too…  _ Mon Dieu…"  _

[My God…]

Lucien's hips started to move on their own, grinding into nothing. Mundy slithered down his stomach and abdomen, planting kisses along the skin that tickled Lucien slightly. He finally met with his belt that he undid with one hand, while his other one removed his own. They took as little time as possible to remove their trousers and underwear, and when they were done, Lucien pulled Mundy back on top of him and locked his lips on his. 

Their legs brushed and mingled. Lucien was holding Mundy's cheeks as he  _ added the French to the kiss _ in his usual slow and seductive manner. That just made Mundy sweat more and be more eager and Lucien felt Mundy's masculinity twitch against his abdomen. 

Their moans wrapped them safe in the intimacy of the pink glowing tent and behind the curtain of the weeping willow's branches, following the night breeze. 

Thank God no one was around as their shadows against the tent's fabric didn't leave any doubt about what was happening inside.

A tall man with rather square shoulder slowly sunk down on the other man's masculinity. He growled without restraint as he felt filled more and more, until he had it all in and was now sat on the other's pelvis. He bent down and kissed the man below him, whose moans were more subtle but higher in pitch, before he started rolling his hips. It started slowly to not hurt, for him to get used to the feeling again and find the right angle. But once he did, the picked up the pace and both their moans grew louder and to the rhythm of the thrusts. 

Their chests were against each other, sliding easily because of the sweat, as Mundy put his hands on Lucien's neck, to get some leverage. 

" _ Mon Dieu… Mundy… Awh!" _

" _ Yeah, God you feel so good… Gnh!"  _

Mundy's thrusts didn't stop. He grinded his hips as they held each other as close as possible, whispering in the other's ears all that they hadn't before, because they feared it would put an end to their story. 

_ "I love you Lucien, I am in love with you, I thought… I thought I only liked it… When we - oorh! - when we just have a moment, here and there, but no - God that feels amazin' - I think I really love you…" _

_ "And I tried to only like you - be careful, don't hurt yourself, awh! - I tried to pretend, I tried not to say that I loved you, I tried - Awh, oui, oui that feels good - I tried to tone it down with my ridiculous sentimentality but I couldn't - hmm!"  _

Lucien put his hands on Mundy's backside, his fingers digging in the flesh, and the Aussie growled loudly in his ear. Shivers ran up his spine to his mouth and the tip of his fingers. 

" _ Please, Lu, please…" _

_ "Oui?"  _

_ "Touch me, I'm close - oh God!" _

Their breaths were heavy and heated. Lucien's hand slid down in the space between their chests and found Mundy's aching member. 

_ "Oh yeah, yeah, please… Oh my God…"  _

Mundy felt overwhelmed and slowed down on his thrusts to better appreciate everything. Lucien started jerking his hips on his own as he too was approaching his climax. 

_ "Mundy, your lips, please - awh!" _

Mundy what that meant. He had never experienced it with anyone else before but Lucien needed to kiss when he reached his peak, he loved to feel Mundy's arms wrapping around him while his body collapsed. 

_ "Hmm!" _

_ "Oh ye - ah!" _

Mundy stuck himself to Lucien and pulled him impossibly close to himself while Lucien's hand steadied on Mundy's end. Their bodies shook as they moaned and groaned, the heat becoming unbearable and necessary at the same time. 

And after a moment, they were just lying, Mundy on top of Lucien, spent and exhausted beyond was words could express, panting and catching their breaths. Mundy felt Lucien's masculinity still occasionally twitch inside him, and each time it did, he smiled in his head, because he didn't have the strength to smile for real.

"Mundy?" 

"Yeah?"

Both had their eyes closed and Mundy's head was buried in Lucien's neck. Their hair was damp with sweat. 

"You will think that I am mad, out of my mind, and quite possibly senile."

Mundy frowned. 

"But I need to say it again: I love you."

"I love you too… And I'm as mad and out of my mind and all for you." 

They both chuckled and slowly opened their eyes. Mundy withdrew from Lucien and laid next to him. They kissed each other but now it was wet and sloppy, slow too. They needed a moment of sweetness after all these efforts. 

_ "You're gorgeous."  _

Lucien's eyes opened up and snapped wide. He felt his ears get hot. 

"I think I never told you before, but you really are gorgeous." Mundy repeated and Lucien smiled oh so sweetly. 

"And you have no idea what fashion or elegance is, but that only makes me want you more. Your beauty is natural, your touch is rough, your skin tanned by the sun… Hmm… You are delicious." 

Mundy put his hand on Lucien's hip and pulled him closer to kiss him. 

"I didn't know you liked your men like that, eh?"

"Neither did I." Lucien admitted. "But I look at you now and cannot see anything else."

Their lips met. Mundy took Lucien's bottom lip and pulled on it gently, which made the Frenchman smile and moan, or sing, to Mundy's ears it was the same. 

"Hey, Lu'?" 

"Hm?" 

"What do you say to going in the lake?"

"Now? It's the middle of the night."

"Yeah, but we both need a good wash and… No one's around, luv'." 

"Oui but we won't see a thing in the night?"

"I'll take the torch out and put it to the max, you'll see it's pretty damn powerful. Also, I didn't know you were scared of the dark, eh?"

"I'm not, I just want to be able to see."

"What?"

" _ Your naked body." _

"Haven't you seen it enough?" Mundy asked. 

_ "Never."  _

They quickly kissed and got out of the tent with the torch. Mundy cranked up its power to the maximum and indeed, it shone at least as brightly as a car light. He took Lucien by the hand and both entered the water. When they were sufficiently deep, Mundy pulled Lucien against his chest and kissed behind his neck. 

"Lu?" 

"Oui?" 

"I love you, I really do." 

Mundy wrapped his arms around Lucien's sides and they stuck their cheeks against each other. Both smiled. It had been hard to keep that secret but completely worth it. 

  
  
  



	60. Froggy floatie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I don't know if you would like this. But perhaps Spy being scared of the water cause he can't swim well. And then sniper is like. "I am a floatie now". Also your writing is lovely please never stop. "

* * *

"Non, I won't follow you." 

"Come on, the water's very warm and it's just you and me, there's no one around." 

"Non, Sniper, please." 

Sniper sighed and sat next to his now  _ more-than-friend _ , under the parasol. They both were sitting on a wicker mat. Sniper was wearing a pair of swimming shorts while Spy was in his usual suit and tie. 

"What's wrong?" Sniper scooted over to sit closer to Spy. 

"I don't like water." 

"You don't like water? What do you mean?"

"I don't like swimming." 

"Why? It's nice. The water just carries you, it's relaxing." 

"Maybe." Spy answered. "If you like it, go and have fun, I don't want to spoil it for you or hold you back."

"You're not spoilin' anything." Sniper laced his arms around Spy and almost whispered in his ear. "I just feel like… There's something you're not telling me, I don't know, there's something in that complicated head of yours that you're holding back."

Spy curled against Sniper's chest and the Aussie moved to sit behind him. He wrapped his arms around him and Spy leaned back against Sniper's chest, his head right below his jaw.

"You might be right." 

"Tell me."

"N-non, I can't."

"Darl', listen, whatever it is, I can see that it's worrying you quite a bit. Look at you, your foot is tapping on the floor relentlessly and you're biting your nails like there's no tomorrow…"

Spy sighed and Sniper stuck his cheek against him. 

"I just want to help, love." And he marked the end of his sentence with a quick peck on Spy's cheek. 

"Mundy…" Spy put a hand on his face and let it sink down to his chin. "I am not sure any of us want to hear it. I will just keep it to myself. You go and swim, alright?" 

"Nah, darl', can't leave you all worried here. You scared of the creatures in the water?"

"Non."

"You scared you'll have to remove your mask and someone sees you? If it's just that, you can keep it on." 

"Non." Lucien shook his head. 

"Uhm… It can't be that you're too prude to be in a pair of shorts, I've seen you entirely naked and," Mundy whispered. " _ I liked what I saw, you're gorgeous."  _

Lucien couldn't even smile. 

"Love, please, just tell me." Mundy squeezed him tighter between his arms.

"Mundy, it… It's not easy." 

"I know that much, you're stressed out like I've rarely seen you before."

"Does that make  _ you _ anxious too?" Lucien asked. 

"Nah, one of us worrying is enough. If you're the one who's being troubled by something, I'm here to comfort you, and make sure that you're fine. And as long as you're not fine, I'll stay with you." 

" _ Merci." _

_ [Thank you.] _

Silence fell for a few minutes. They could only hear the occasional breeze and the waves gently rolling on the shore. The sea was mainly calm and warm as the summer sun had hit it constantly for the past few hot days. 

"Lu'?" 

Lucien's ears pricked up beneath the fabric of his mask. 

"Hm?"

"What's wrong?" 

Lucien sighed. 

"I'm scared of it." 

"Of the sea?" 

"Not exactly. I just don't want to swim." 

"Don't know how to swim?" 

Lucien looked down at the mat between his thighs. 

"Hey, luv', if it's only that, I can show you, it's not hard."

"I… I know the theory of it, but never managed to swim very well. I watched you from here and you look like a dolphin, you're not afraid of anything with the sea, it seems insane to me."

Mundy kissed his lover's cheek on the mask. 

"Listen, you get rid of your suit and I'll show you, alright?"

Lucien turned and freed himself from Mundy's embrace. He sat on his knees but still averted his gaze from Mundy. 

"Hey…" Mundy took Lucien's hand in his. "I want to help." 

"Don't you find it ridiculous?"

"What? That you can't swim well? No, why would I?" 

"At my age and with my-mh?!"

Mundy put his finger on Lucien's lips. 

"Shh, stop worrying." 

Their eyes met, one was ashamed, the other kind and benevolent. 

"I don't find you ridiculous. I love you, so I find you gorgeous and irresistible, especially when you look at me with your pink cheeks and your piercing eyes." 

Lucien smiled under Mundy's finger and the latter freed his lips.

"Now, I know you have a pair of budgie smugglers or somethin' underneath all that. D'you want me to help you get out of your suit?"

"Thank you, Mundy." Lucien's eyes were half open and three quarters filled with love. 

"It's nothing, darl'." 

In a few minutes, both were in swimming gear. 

"Now, gimme your hand." 

Lucien did as he was told and Mundy lead him to the shore. The waves and froth gently tickled their feet.

"How d'you find it?"

Lucien's back was hunched slightly. 

"Scary." 

Mundy squeezed his hand tighter. 

"I meant temperature wise, luv'." 

"I guess it is fine." 

"Good. Let's take a few steps, ok?" 

Mundy walked towards the sea and Lucien did the same, his hand clenched hard as steel on Mundy's.

"You're doing very well, darl', I'm proud of you, go as slowly as you want, I don't want to force you."

"M-Mundy… I can't go further." 

Lucien stopped where the water reached his hips. 

"Alright, we won't go further, I promise."

Lucien nodded in thanks.

"Listen here, we're lighter than water and look what we can do…"

Mundy laid on his back, on the surface of the water, his hand never leaving his lover's. 

"Look, I'm a floatie!" 

Lucien smiled. 

"Very childish,  _ mon amour." _

_ [My love.] _

"Maybe, but look, you have nothing to fear… You too can float, you know?" 

"Non, I can't." 

Mundy stood back up. 

"Course you can, I'll show you. First, crouch down with me. Don't be scared, luv'-oh?" 

Lucien pulled Mundy closer to himself and wrapped the Aussie's arms around him. 

"Mundy…"

"Yeah?"

"I trust you with this. Please be careful."

Mundy smiled and nodded. 

"Don't worry, I love you too much." 

They both crouched down such that the water was right below their shoulders. Lucien had closed his eyes and he was frowning. Mundy pressed his forehead against Lucien's. He whispered. 

"There you go, see? Nothing bad is happening. It's just you, me and the water. I'm holding you close and I'm not letting you go. Breathe slowly and relax, I'm here and I'm holding you." 

Lucien took a deep breath and tried relaxing. But Mundy saw that he was still frowning and his breath was still fast. 

"Can you open your eyes?" 

"I can try." 

"Look at me, don't look down if you don't want to." 

Lucien opened his eyes and looked up at Mundy. 

"I'll help you relax, ok?" 

Lucien nodded.

"Now, close your eyes again." 

As soon as Mundy saw his eyelids shut, he put his lips on his and stayed there. He gently kissed, very slowly, with his eyes opened and saw Lucien's eyebrows relax. His breath slowed down too.

"See, you can relax in the water."

Lucien opened his eyes and smiled. 

_ "Merci.  _ I didn't know you could kiss that gently."

"You like it?" 

Lucien nodded. Over the course of their relationship, Mundy discovered that the cold-blooded assassin that Spy was, was in fact very soft deep down. He kissed him again. 

"Wanna try and be a floatie too?" 

"I'd like to, but I'm very scared." 

"I promise to hold you and you can stand up on your feet whenever you want. Would that work?" 

Lucien wavered for a while but eventually nodded. 

"Fine but please, Mundy."

"Yeah, I'll hold you. First, stand up with me. There, good, now, I'll put one hand behind your neck and the other on your butt. You take a deep breath, fill your lungs with air and lie on your back. Don't worry, I got you…"

Lucien started bending backwards slowly. 

"There you go, feel my hands behind you? Y'know I'm strong enough to carry you if things go wrong but they won't, cause you're listenin' to me and you're doing things slowly… There, look at you know! You're a floatie too!" 

Lucien was lying on his back, on the surface of the water.

"Now, you don't need to fill your lungs with air that much. I'm holding you, I'm holding you… Breathe normally, there you go! Look at you, ya froggy floatie!"

Lucien's eyes snapped wide. 

"Froggy floatie?!" 

"And now you can speak too!"

"What do you mean?!"

"You're French, so you're a frog, and you can float. So you're a froggy floatie." 

Mundy lightly tapped his lover's nose and that's when Lucien realised that he wasn't supported by him anymore. He tensed up. 

"Relax, you've been on your own since the beginning. I just kept my hand on your butt cause I like it…" 

Lucien rolled his eyes and smiled. 

"If you like it so much, you may put it back."

"If you insist…"

Mundy put his hand back below Lucien's backside. 

"What are you-?"

"You told me I could put my hand there, so I am." 

Lucien felt Mundy's bare hand on his backside, his fingers caressing slowly underwater. 

"You, Monsieur, are taking advantage of me." 

"Well, go and complain then!"

"I will, you just wait."

"Who will you complain to, eh?" 

"My lover." Lucien playfully answered. "He won't be happy go hear someone is having his way with me." 

"Oh yeah, I think I know the bloke, he'll be furious. He doesn't like sharing, especially not his gorgeous man." 

Lucien raised his hand and Mundy took it to help him stand up again. He hugged him dearly. 

"Someone's all cuddly now, eh?" 

" _ Oui _ , it's your fault."

"Was it my gropin' you or-?"

"Mundy, phrasing! I don't like that word." Lucien answered, his head against Mundy's chest. 

"Call it what you want, I liked it." 

"And to answer your question, non, your, uh,  _ sensual touch  _ is not responsible for this embrace."

"What then?" 

"I am merely saying thanks."

"For what?" 

"For helping an old man become a floating frog."

"It's a  _ froggy floatie." _

" _ Call it what you want, I like it."  _ Lucien quoted Mundy and they exchanged a smile. "Can you help me swim now?"

"Yeah, of course. You not scared?"

"I haven't drowned yet so I think I can trust you." 

"Oh, wow, you can trust me cause you haven't drowned, eh? Not because you find me handsome or sexy, or anything?" 

"Oh, non…!" Lucien teased. "You are not anything of the sort."

"What?!" 

"You are the sexiest man alive…"

Mundy smiled and bending down slightly, he kissed Lucien on his lips, hungrily. 

" _ After me." _ Lucien finished his sentence and Mundy opened his eyes. 

Lucien removed his balaclava and threw it away. 

"I don't mean to show off. Just look at me." 

Mundy wrapped his arms around the sexiest man alive indeed and kissed him deep and passionately. His hands slid on Lucien's back and under his swimming shorts to grasp his tender backside. 

"Hm?!" 

The first moan was surprised, the ones that followed, heated.


	61. First contact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hope I didn't bother you! What if Spy flirts at Sniper alot, but he's never touched him before because he feels like it would be invading Sniper's personal space. One faithful day, while Spy continues his daily mission of shoving his love to Sniper, Sniper kinda just?? Touches his hand?? But Spy knows its more than that and he gets all flustered and holds his hand back. And Sniper gets flustered in return and they sit in a comfortable silence, both of them just savoring the moment."

* * *

"Oh hey, Spook."

"Bushman." 

Spy exited the base for an evening stroll and as usual, he saw his colleague sat next to his van on a plastic foldable chair. There wasn't much to appreciate in the scenery as they were in the middle of a dry desert, but both nonetheless liked the colours that the setting sun painted the landscape with. The blue sky turned shades of orange, with streaks of pink. The ground went from orange to violet. The occasional cacti now punctuated it all with black touches here and there and the boulders also changed from orange to deep Burgundy red. 

"Walkin' around, eh?" 

"My usual stroll, as you know. Care to join me?" 

"Uh…" Sniper hesitated. "You sure?" 

" _ Oui, _ I rather enjoy your company. It is balanced in every way possible." 

Sniper raised a curious eyebrow behind his yellow-tinted aviator glasses. He wondered what his colleague meant with that.

"I can offer a cigarette." Spy flipped his cigarette case open. 

"Well, in that case…" Sniper got off his chair and walked closer to Spy. He took the cigarette and put it between his lips and Spy promptly flicked his lighter. A yellow flame sprang up and Spy let Sniper's cigarette be consumed by it slowly. His eyes weren't on the flame, or not directly. After lighting his own one, he put the lighter in his breast pocket and both started walking. 

"You know, you should remove your glasses from time to time." 

"Why?" 

"It is a shame to hide such beautiful irises behind them."

Sniper blushed and puffed on the cigarette nervously for an instant. He frowned. 

"What did you mean by the way?" He asked. 

"With what?" 

"When you said that my company was  _ 'balanced' _ ?"

"Oh, is that not the way you phrase it in English? My apologies." Spy chuckled. "I meant that I liked your company because I like the way that you talk. Sometimes you answer me and the conversation is delightful, surprising so for someone who does enjoy the solitude of a life in a campervan. But other times, you do just enjoy the silence and scenery, the peace and quiet. This is a quality that not a lot of people have."

"Ah, yeah, well… I'm just bad with words." Sniper answered. 

"I do not think that you are. On the contrary, you partake in these evening strolls with me and your input in the conversations are, to my mind, quite refreshing." 

"Ah, well, thanks. I-I like talking to you too."

"Do you?" Spy insisted. 

"Yeah, I mean, I learn things that I wouldn't otherwise and uh… You're nice to listen to." 

"You are learning things from me?" Spy asked, intrigued. "I thought that I was learning from  _ you _ ."

"What?! What did you get from me?" 

"For starters, you do help me with my English. I used to speak it much better during my time in America, but that was decades ago now and I sometimes feel like I need to go back to school." 

"Really?" 

" _ Oui, _ or other times I do feel like I am translating myself badly. I mean something and for lack of a better way of phrasing it, I twist my original idea and express it in a way that does not match my original intent. Ah, Descartes was right…" Spy chuckled. 

"Who?"

"A French philosopher from the 17th century. He said  _ 'Traduire, c'est trahir.'." _

"What does that mean?" 

"Literally, 'translating is betraying'. By that he meant that through translation, you always lose part of the original meaning. Often it is in the nuances, the hidden connotations, but sometimes that is exactly where most of the message is."

"Hm, I see…"

They looked at each other and exchanged a smile. 

"Also, I'll remove my glasses the day you get that mask of yours off." 

Spy chuckled. 

"That is one bold deal, Bushman." 

"Yeah well, business is hard, mate, eh?" Sniper snickered. 

"With you especially, I see. Ah, Sniper…" 

"Spook?" 

" _ Oui?"  _

"Why do you always walk around in the evenings?" 

Spy looked up at his friend. 

"To enjoy a cigarette and the sunsets."

"Why invite me? D'you ever invite the others?" 

"Non, I don't. And I already said it. Your company is very enjoyable. Not like any of the other's. But tell me, Sniper, why question it?" 

"I… I don't know. We've had these uh, smoke breaks a few times already now and…" Sniper gulped down hard. "I-I mean thanks." 

Spy raised an eyebrow. 

"You are welcome, for whatever you are thanking me." 

"Look around you, what d'you see?" Sniper asked as they both stopped walking.

"Quite a poor scenery but brightened up by your presence. The colours are striking though, absolutely beautiful, which is why I particularly enjoy sunsets. I find that they allow me to see things and people differently." 

"How?" Sniper asked. 

"Take you, for example." Spy started. "During the day I see a solitary man, and I respect this will to stay alone. You are nonetheless a professional and know how to work in a team surprisingly well for someone who is as sociable as one of those boulders we see around us."

Spy took a deep breath and smiled. Sniper saw the pink streaks in the sky on his very light irises, between the thin spiky shadows of his eyelashes. 

"But when sunset comes," Spy resumed his speech. "And I see so much more."

Sniper's lips parted as he was faced with Spy's intense gaze. 

"I see the man below the hat and behind the glasses. I see the reflection of the golden sun in your lagoon blue eyes and they now shine in turquoise. Do you mind removing your hat for an instant?" 

Sniper was gobsmacked. He did as he was told.

"Your hair, Sniper… I think I have never seen it as clearly as I do now." 

Sniper blushed as Spy stared with a soft smile.

"It is beautiful. The colour I knew was brown but during the particular light of sunset, some locks of it appear ginger, almost golden." 

Spy wanted to touch it but thought that his words were hitting Sniper powerfully enough. Besides, if Sniper refused to take his room in the base and stayed in his campervan, chances were that he liked his personal space very much and would defend it at all cost. Spy respected that too much and decided against attempting anything physical to show Sniper that he didn't see him only as a friend. 

"You have beautiful, wavy hair, Sniper. It shines brightly." 

"Thanks… I-I can't really say for yours but uh… I'm sure it's nice, really nice." 

Spy chuckled. 

"I wish it were… But I am old now, Sniper." Spy started walking again and Sniper followed him. 

"Hey, Spook?" 

Spy turned. 

"You're not old."

"I am older than you."

"Maybe." 

"Believe me, I am." 

"How d'you know?" Sniper asked and Spy smiled, lowering his head. 

"There isn't a single grey hair on your head." 

Sniper heard the distress in Spy's voice. 

"Yeah, I know… A shame, right?"

Spy raised his head and a curious eyebrow. 

"A shame?" He repeated. 

"Yeah, I like grey hair. It's beautiful." 

"Nonsense." 

"No, really. And uh, yeah… I mean…" Sniper averted his gaze. "I'm sure you've got really nice hair. I just never see it b-but I'm sure, really sure, that it's gorgeous." 

Spy smiled. 

"Thank you." 

"Yeah." 

"Sniper?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Why do you accept these smoke breaks with me?" Spy asked.

"Same as you. I like talking to you. I think you aren't that arrogant." 

They had walked in a loop around the base and were now back at Sniper's van. He unfolded a second chair and they took a seat. The sun had now almost completely set and the van behind them blocked anyone from the base seeing them. Sniper continued talking.

"People assume that you're arrogant because you're French and that's it. But I think you just know what you're worth and like me, you don't have much patience for people. You live by yourself and you just like simple things in the end."

"Do I? Most of the time people think I just like overpriced things, like wines and such."

"Yeah you like that too but… The way that you described the colours of the sunset, it tells me that you also like simple things, things that no one can buy."

Spy smiled and answered.

"Like your company and, if I were brave, I would say your smile." 

Both blushed. One because of the truth he was saying, the other, under the compliment. Sniper's hand hovered from his armrest to Spy's and his fingers brushed past his gloved hand. Spy looked at it when he felt the gentle touch and looked up at Sniper who was facing the other way, as if he wasn't really doing it. But that was all that Spy was waiting for, a first touch, something, anything that said that he could touch the solitary man in the van without scaring him off or invading his personal space. 

Spy turned his hand and laced his fingers between Sniper's shaking ones. His thumb brushed the back of his hand and Sniper got all flustered. 

"I like your smile, Sniper."

"M-me too." A nervous voice answered. 

"You like your smile?" Spy teased and Sniper finally turned to face him.

"No, no, I mean I like  _ your _ smile."

"I'm glad you do. I don't show it to just anyone." 

"I know, same for me, mate." 

Silence fell and they took the time to appreciate the warmth diffusing from their hands. Sniper was sweating bullets as he now realised that not only did the touch burn him to his very core, but he was  _ doing all this _ with a man he hadn't even seen the face of. Maybe it was worth mentioning it… 

"Spook?"

" _ Oui?" _

"Isn't it weird?"

"What? Watching the sunset together?" 

"Y-yeah nah, I was thinking… I mean… I don't even know what you look like and…"

"That can easily be fixed. But you will need to honour your part of the deal." 

Sniper looked at Spy with question marks in his eyes. 

"If I reveal my face to you, you shall do the same." 

"W-wait, you'll show me your face? Really?" 

Spy smiled and nodded. 

"Why not? There are a few people I do not want to show my face to. But you are not one of them. Your solitude and your silence interest me and make me think that we are more similar than what I first thought."

"I think so too, y'know. I think you understand parts of me that people usually don't."

Spy smiled. 

"So, will you honour your part of the deal?"

"Course."

Sniper answered but he didn't expect Spy to pull his mask off and remove it on the spot. 

"Y-what are you doing?!"

"Fulfilling my part." Spy answered, carding his hair back with his hand that wasn't holding Sniper's. He turned to look the Aussie in the eye. 

"Woah…" Sniper's jaw dropped and his eyes snapped wide. Even in the shy light of the moon, he could very well see the thin jawline and the smirk, the ice blue eyes and the long dark eyelashes. Sniper removed his hat and glasses and saw Spy's smile widen. 

"I was right." Spy said. "It really is a shame to hide such beautiful eyes behind your glasses, Sniper." 

And he leaned his head on Sniper's shoulder. Spy heard the fast heartbeat. 

"Y-you're gorgeous." Sniper stuttered. 

"So are you,  _ mon beau." _

[My beautiful one.]


	62. Mundy's girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Another one hahaha ( Love Triangle). there's a woman(Childhood friend of Mundy). The woman was secretly Inlove to her friend. Mundy introduce to Lucien about his friend. Lucien felt jealous. "

* * *

"You're so posh, can't you have some normal food for once?"

"What is wrong with a coffee and a croissant for breakfast? Also, I am inviting you this time, so you don't have the luxury to judge me for what I am ordering.  _ You _ , on the other hand, have gone for the awfully English breakfast…"

"Can't start the day with an empty stomach, can I?" 

Their eyes met and they smiled to each other. Sniper had driven them both to a diner in the morning. They were both such close friends that Spy had almost got used to Sniper's van, and his complaining about the rusticity of it had lowered down significantly.

"Of course, you cannot…"

Spy winked at his friend as he lit one of his menthol cigarettes. The diner wasn't too busy and the sun was shining beautifully in that day of early June.

"Spook?"

"Hm?" 

"Give us a cig'."

"Non."

"What?"

"I said non." Spy repeated, as he took a sip of his black coffee. 

"Why?" 

"Only when you finish your, uhm, what you dare call a breakfast." 

"You're not my mum, Spook."

"Non, but as long as I'm your friend, I might as well try to teach you some manners."

Sniper rolled his eyes. 

"I hate you." 

"Non, you don't." Spy smirked and Sniper raised his eyes off his plate for an instant to wink at him. 

"Nah, I don't… I can't…" 

They resumed their breakfast. It was a pleasant day and they very much appreciated each other's company.

"Mundy?" 

Sniper raised his head at the sound of a feminine voice calling for him. He looked where the voice came from. 

"What…?"

A lady approached him and Spy. 

"It's you Mundy, right? It's me, Diana! Remember?" 

"Bloody hell!" 

Sniper stood up and hugged the woman in front of Spy who couldn't help but stare. Diana was about Sniper's age. She was shorter than him and Spy, and was wearing a pink t-shirt with a pair of denim jeans. She was blond and quite good-looking for a lady...

"Diana! How the hell is this possible?"

"Ahem." Spy exaggerated his cough. 

"Oh yeah, Diana, please meet my friend, uh…" Sniper of course didn't know Spy's name and even if he wasn't wearing his balaclava, he still called him by his job title.

"Lucien." Spy stood up and extended his hand, noticing from the corner of his eye Sniper's surprise. 

"Oh, nice to meet you, you must be one of Micky's friends?"

"Y-yeah, he's my best friend." Mundy explained.

"I see you replaced me quickly!" Diana quipped. 

"C'mon, it's been, what? Twenty years? Maybe even more? Oh, y'know what, come and get something with us, you alone?" 

They resumed their seats. As it was a diner, Lucien and Mundy were sitting on opposite benches, facing each other. Diana took a seat next to Mundy. 

"Yeah, I'm alone, I just wanted to grab something and go back home. But that's when I saw the hat and glasses and I thought that there's no one else on Earth who had the same as you!" 

"You want something? Coffee? Tea? It's on me." Mundy offered and Lucien raised an eyebrow.

"But-"

"No buts, it's such a nice surprise! Nah, mate, you gotta have something with us." 

"Well, some coffee and maybe a muffin would be nice." 

"Right, you don't move, I'll be right back." 

Mundy stood up and headed to the counter. 

"So, you have known Mundy for a long time,  _ oui?" _

"Yeah, we used to be childhood friends. We used to go to the same school all the way from kindergarten up until high school." 

"Ah, I see…" 

"And you, where did you meet with Micky?" 

"We work together." Lucien answered. 

"You don't look like a hunter." Diana answered, looking at Lucien's impeccable beige suit and matching tie. He smiled. 

"Non indeed, I do not. I have a different position."

"Your coffee and muffin are on their way, mate." Mundy said, coming back and sitting down next to Diana. 

"Oh, thanks, Micky." 

"I see you've been chattin' while I was away."

"Oh, just wondering how we both came to know you." Diana explained.

Spy noticed how Mundy blushed at the mention of his nickname.

" _ Mademoiselle  _ Diana here told me that you have been childhood friends."

"Yeah, grown up more or less together." Mundy added. 

"Even dated each other for-"

Lucien choked on his coffee and coughed repeatedly. 

"Bloody hell, you're alright, Spook?" 

"Ahem…" Spy coughed a few more times and cleared his throat. "My apologies. My coffee went the wrong way." Lucien wiped his mouth. "Please don't let me interrupt you." 

"Spook?" Diana repeated. 

"Yeah well, I'm still bad with nicknames…" Mundy explained awkwardly. "So…" He started, trying to remember where there were. 

"Yeah, I was saying that we dated each other for quite a while back then, eh?" Diana recalled. 

"Yeah, some good laughs we've had." 

"How long did you two stay together?" Lucien asked. 

"A year or so, maybe a bit more."

"It felt like centuries more, mate." Mundy teased. 

"Oh, shut up, you! It was wonderful! I'm the best girlfriend you've ever had!" 

Mundy burst out laughing. 

"Yeah, that's true."

"Is it still the case?" She asked as her coffee and muffin landed in front of her.

"Yeah, didn't have another girlfriend that I was  _ that _ close too." Mundy answered and Lucien hid his red cheeks behind his cup of coffee. 

"And why did your story end?" Lucien asked. "You seem to get along very well."

"I moved away to go to Uni." Diana said. Lucien noticed that Mundy blushed and lowered his eyes. 

"Y-yeah, she had to go. It really was a shame cause you've been my best friend for such a long time." 

"You got someone else to fill the vacancy, now." She said, nodding to Lucien. "And a good lookin' one at that."

Lucien smiled proudly and nodded in thanks.

"Y-yeah, Lucien's really nice…" Mundy answered, his head still low and his cheeks crimson. Lucien got shivers hearing his name from Mundy, with the Australian accent. "So, Diana, what have you become in all these years?" 

"Graduated from Uni and I'm now an accountant."

"Fancy." Mundy said.

"I guess you're still a hunter." Diana pointed at the golden bullets that Mundy wore on his vest pocket.

"Yeah, same old. I can't go to school or Uni."

"Micky used to get into so much trouble back then…!"

"Did he?" Lucien asked. 

"Yeah, he used to get into fights a lot."

"You? Fighting?" Lucien teased. 

"Yeah, I just… Bah, no need to talk about all that." 

Lucien saw that Diana got uncomfortable too. 

"Shall I leave you two for a minute, perhaps?" He asked. 

"Is that ok with you, Spook?" 

"But of course." Lucien nodded at them and stood up to leave. 

"But hey, Spook?"

Spy turned. 

"Let me pay this time." Sniper said and Spy didn't like it. He had said that he would this time and wanted to invite Sniper. But quite obviously, Sniper's interest had shifted from Spy to that Diana lady… 

"Fine, thank you." 

"No worries!"

Spy left the diner and went to Sniper's van. He found it and sighed as he didn't have the key to unlock it. 

_ Merde.  _ He thought.

[Shit.]

Well, let it be so. Spy opened his cigarette case and retrieved the pin that he hid there. He picked the van's lock and got in, slamming the door shut after him. He was hurt and more jealous than he could ever admit. He felt defeated, absolutely so. Now that Sniper had found his young sweetheart, that was it for him. No amount of French charm and seducing could beat that. And they never really broke up! They just stopped seeing each other because she had to go to university...

Meanwhile in the diner, Mundy and Diana were still chatting. 

"So…" She started. "That's one hell of a handsome bloke you've found yourself, eh?" 

"N-no, nah, w-we're not uh…" 

"Maybe you aren't but I can clearly see you want it." Diana said with a smirk. 

"Ah… Well… I never could lie to you, eh?" Mundy answered, embarrassed. 

"Nah, and you still can't. So go on, tell me more about him." 

Mundy took a deep breath. 

"He's… He's amazin' alright? Yeah he looks like a God but apart from that, the banter with him is from another planet! I didn't know I could get along that well with that kind of bloke, and one that looks that good at that…"

"D'you know if he thinks the same about you?" Diana asked. 

"Nah, he can't be. The bloke's a magnet for sheilas. Wherever we go, I see them all look at him as if he was a… a…" Mundy looked left and right. "A muffin!" He said when his eyes landed on Diana's pastry. 

"Well I can understand why! He looks bloody gorgeous!" She answered. 

"I know! And he always dresses up like that and his hair is always perfect and…" Mundy sighed. "Well I know I don't stand a chance so I just take what I can, y'know, here and there."

"Why d'you think you stand no chance?" She asked. 

"You said it! He's gorgeous and I'm just… I'm just me, look at me! Same hat and glasses for decades, same old hunter… Nothing interestin' about me. But him… Diana, sometimes he talks about himself a bit more and uh… Woah… He's been to so many places, met so many people, it's insane…!" Mundy's eyes were dreamy and Diana smiled.

"I think he likes you too." 

"What?" Mundy got flustered. 

"It's obvious! And I wouldn't be surprised if he was pissed off now." She added. 

"Why?" 

"Because I broke your moment! If I had known that you were interested in him, I'd never had interrupted you guys. I should have waited and seen when you were done to come and talk to you…"

"Bah, it's good to see you anyway."

"Yeah but as obvious as he likes you, you like him an awful lot too, eh?" 

Mundy nodded, albeit with a sad smile on his lips. 

"I'm finished with my coffee and all. Here, that's my number." She slid a business card to him. "So that you can call me and tell me first hand when you two become a thing!"

Mundy shook his head. 

"It's never gonna happen, don't say that just to give me mad hopes." 

"I'm very serious, Micky. The bloke likes you."

"What d'you know know about it?" He asked. 

"Trust me, us girls can sniff those things. Now, I really gotta go." She stood up and headed away from him. "Don't forget to call, eh?" 

Mundy waved goodbye and put his head in his hands. 

_ Bloody hell… _ He thought. 

He stayed in the diner for a minute more before paying what he owed and leaving. 

From the van, Lucien saw Diana exit alone and raised an eyebrow. He was surprised not to see her with Mundy hand in hand… He shivered. The sight of Mundy with someone hand in hand… 

"Oh…" Lucien saw Mundy exit the diner and head to the van. Soon, the keys jingled and Sniper unlocked his van. 

"Argh! Bloody hell you scared me!" He said, putting a hand on his chest. 

"My apologies, I did not mean to." Lucien answered coldly. Mundy sighed. 

"Y-you alright?" Mundy was of course sensing his friend's coldness.

" _ Oui. _ Let us go back to the base." 

"Right." 

Mundy's van was roaring out of the city and through the desert. But inside of it, the silence was weighing heavily. 

"Spook?"

"Oui?"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing that concerns you. It is me. I am old and, well, ' _ incorrigible _ ' as we say in French." 

"What's that mean?" 

"Literally,  _ 'incorrectible' _ or maybe it is  _ 'uncorrectible'? _ I never learn, is what I mean." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I tend to think, especially in your company, that I am much younger than what I really am."

"Spook-"

"When will you see her again?" 

Mundy's eyes dropped from the road to his fingers that were fumbling with the steering wheel. He sighed.

"I don't know."

"I see." 

"What?" Mundy asked. "What d'you see?" 

"Well, you still love her." 

"What?! No!"

"Bushman, don't try to lie to me!"

"No, you got it wrong! I don't! I've 'ever loved her!"

"Ah, and she lied when she said that you had been lovers before?"

"Yes!" Mundy answered. 

"Why would she do that?!" 

"Because-!" Mundy sighed. He looked in the rear-view mirrors and parked the van on the side of the road in the middle of the desert. 

"What now?" Lucien asked. 

"She was my best friend, but she never really was my girlfriend."

Lucien raised a curious eyebrow as Mundy continued. 

"She just pretended." 

"Why did she do such a ridiculous thing?" 

Mundy sighed and rubbed his eyes from under his glasses. 

"Because she wanted to help me… I-I've never liked girls and the reason why I got into so many fights during my high school years was because of that. People used to mock me and my only answer was to fight back."

Lucien's jaw had dropped. 

"I've never loved Diana as anything else but a friend. She was the only one to understand me and not just bully me. We had people believe that she was my girlfriend for people to leave me alone."

"So when she said that she was your best girlfriend ever, it's both very true and very false." Lucien said. 

"Yeah, she's my best girlfriend cause I've never had any and don't want any. But she herself was never one for real."

"I… I am sorry to hear that you had to go through all that…  _ Mundy _ ." 

"Yeah, well, it's all behind me now…"

Lucien turned to look at Mundy. 

"So, you don't love her?" 

"Not like I love… blokes, nah." 

"And when you offered to pay for her?"

"It was just for old time's sake. I wasn't tryin' to date her or something."

"I see." 

"Spook?"

"Lucien." Spy corrected him. "You know my face and my name. You might as well use it, out of work of course."

"Yeah…So, uh, Lucien, isn't it?" 

Lucien nodded. 

"Diana was always so clever about people, a bit like you."

Lucien's eyebrows jumped. 

"She used to notice the smallest details and learn so much about people, it's insane."

"So she told you?" Lucien asked with a smile. 

"Told me what?" 

"Women are very good at guessing those things and if she is as gifted as you say, then she surely knows." Lucien calmly answered.

Mundy lowered his head. 

"Tell me, Mundy, what did she tell you?" 

"She said that… That you liked me." 

"Oh, that I do,  _ oui _ . Didn't she say anything else? Or maybe she meant something else?"

"She…" Mundy hesitated, his hand went to the gearbox and he squeezed it nervously under his fingers. Lucien put his hand on top of his. 

"Tell me." 

"She thinks that you… You might… Y'know…"

Lucien smiled. Mundy's sensitivity was one of the numerous reasons why he had fallen for him. 

"I love you." Lucien finished. "If that is what she said, then she is very right."

Mundy's eyes snapped wide. 

"Y-you what? No, yeah, I mean, she, you…" 

"I love you." Lucien repeated still with his charming calm voice, his fingers clenched harder on Mundy's hand, on the gearbox. "And I became too jealous to be able to hide it, which is why I left the table. I came back here, in your van, and I thought that you were flirting with her and falling for her again. Heartbroken, I was sitting here heartbroken. I thought that I was losing you. Maybe I was, maybe your heart is set on someone else and foolish me thought that this was happening decades ago, when all my hair was still black and I didn't have all those lines on my face…" 

"Shut up…"

Lucien's eyebrows jumped. 

"I beg your pardon?"

"You really think those lines at the corner of your eyes or a bit of grey hair would stop me?"

"Stop you from what?" Lucien asked. 

"Stop me from lovin' you too! Y-you're gorgeous, you're such a nice bloke, you're funny, you understand me, the banter we have is amazing and" Mundy turned to look at Lucien. "And you're absolutely gorgeous."

Lucien's surprised face was something new to Mundy, but far from unpleasant. 

"I-I love you too." Mundy repeated, his eyes looking deep into Lucien's very light blue, almost grey ones.

Lucien leaned his head on Mundy's shoulder. 

"Mundy?" 

"Yeah?" 

Their fingers laced through each other's.

"Micky is a terrible nickname, I think." Lucien said.

"Don't like it?"

"Non."

"Do you have a nickname?" Mundy asked. 

"Whichever you will choose for me."

"Your name's Lucien, right?"

Lucien nodded against Mundy's shoulder. 

"What about Lu'?" 

Lucien smiled. 

"I like it." 

"Really?" 

"Oui, no one ever before called me that." 

"Alight, then you're Lu'. But what am I?"

"What about  _ 'mon chéri'?" _

"Your cherry?" Mundy asked, surprised. 

"Non,  _ mon chéri _ does not mean my cherry." Lucien answered, chuckled. 

"What then?" 

" _ My darling." _ Lucien answered as he raised his head. His eyes crossed, devouring Mundy's lagoon blue eyes, their charm, before closing his eyes and pushing his lips on Mundy's softly.


	63. The ferris wheel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hi! How u doing? 💕Lu and Mundy go to a fair and make out in the ferris wheel ☺️🧡"

"I know that you are younger than me, Mundy, but  _ this _ … This is utterly childish." 

"Come on, grumpy old man, follow me!" 

Mundy had taken his lover Lucien to a fair. It turned out to be as busy as an anthill! People were swarming between the stands of hot food and attractions. 

"You like bumper cars?" 

" _ Pardon?" _ Lucien asked in his mother tongue. 

"I'll take that as a yes, c'mon!" Mundy took Lucien by his arm and pulled him to the bumper cars attraction. 

With all his pride, Lucien found it hard to let himself sink in and relax. But seeing Mundy that delighted made his arrogance melt and he soon enjoyed himself as much as his lover, even though he barely showed it. Mundy chose only attractions that he could share with Lucien until they arrived at a the shooting stand. 

"Non, Mundy, do not even think about it." 

"Mate, it's a sure win!" 

"Exactly, which is why you shouldn't do that. The poor man is trying to make a living." Lucien said. 

"I wasn't thinkin' about doing it myself." Mundy answered. "You go and try." 

_ "Moi?"  _ Lucien asked. 

"Yeah, that way it's fair." 

"Fair? Mundy, my aim is excellent!"

"Yeah well not as excellent as mine, eh." Mundy teased.

"What?! I beg to differ!"

"Prove it, then. Go and shoot all the cans." Mundy wiggled his eyebrows and Lucien sighed. 

"The things one does out of love…" Lucien grumbled. 

They headed for the shooting stand. The man holding it explained the game and Lucien took the fake rifle in his hand, under Mundy's keen eyes.

"Lu', you're not holdin' it right."

"I…" He sighed. "I haven't held a rifle in decades now…" 

"Let me show you…" Mundy moved behind Lucien. "There, hold it here, move your hand, yeah, here and this hand here, right, perfect. Now you aim using that marker at the end, it's called-"

"Iron sights, I know,  _ mon chaton."  _

_ [My kitten.] _

Mundy blushed. Usually, Lucien kept the ' _ mon chaton' _ and such when they were alone. But Mundy wouldn't complain. Yes he felt a bit odd, but he loved the feeling. 

"Y-yeah, iron sights, now, which can d'you wanna shoot?"

"The one at the bottom, please." 

"Right, aim for it… You got it?"

"Oui."

"Then hold your breath just to make sure you're as stable as possible… Nice, and now, shoot,  _ my love."  _

As Lucien pulled the trigger, his insides twitched, hearing Mundy's sweet and hoarse whisper in his ear.

"Aces! You got it!" 

"Oui! See? I told you my aim was excellent!" Lucien confirmed. 

"What?! I just had to help you!" 

"Non, you didn't have to, for two reasons. Now, let me shoot the rest." 

Lucien shot the cans that dared still stand. 

"Great job there, which plush would you guys like to get?" The man behind the counter asked. 

Lucien looked at all the stuffed animals. 

"This small kitten, please." 

"Here you go…!" 

The man in charge of the shooting stand gave him the small plush. 

_ "Merci."  _

_ [Thanks.] _

Mundy watched as Lucien walked away with the stuffed kitten in his hands, petting it as if it was real. 

"Mundy?" 

"Y-yeah, I'm comin', luv'." 

Mundy quickly caught up with him. 

"Why the kitten?" He asked. "And why did you say that I didn't have to help you?" 

Lucien smirked and his eyes flashed when he saw a caramel apple stand. 

"I shall explain but first, follow me." 

Mundy did as he was told and in a few minutes, he was holding a bright red caramel apple in his hand. 

"Thanks, luv'." 

"My pleasure." 

They tipped their apples as if they were pints of beer and bit in. 

"Hm, it's actually nicer than the last one I had." Lucien said.

"It's not too sweet, I'm surprised, they're usually so sweet you can't tell there's a fruit underneath." 

"Indeed… Mundy, do you know what we call these caramel apples in French?" 

"Uh, I don't know…  _ Pomme de caramel?" _

_ [Apple of caramel?] _

Lucien chuckled. 

"Not even close! We call them  _ Pomme d'amour." _

"Apple of love?" Mundy asked. 

" _ Oui, mon chaton." _

_ [Yes, my kitten.] _

Mundy blushed and turned as red as the apple he was holding in his hand. Lucien put his index below his chin and caressed it slowly, with half-lidded eyes. He saw Mundy's pupils dilate like a cat in the dark.

_ "Tu es beau quand tu rougis." _

"I what?"

Lucien pushed himself to the tip of his toes and slid his fingers behind Mundy's neck. When his lips were next to his ear, he whispered. 

_ "You are handsome when you blush."  _

And Mundy went from red to crimson…! Not only the meaning of the words hit him but also the waves of air and Lucien's delicate accent flowing to his ear; it all sent shivers down his spine.

"Come, there is one thing I want us to do, if you like it too." Lucien said. 

"S-sure, I'm following you." 

Lucien took him by the hand and laced his fingers in Mundy's.

"Lu'-?!"

"No one is looking, and even if they were, let them try to say something. I love you and I want to hold your hand, why wouldn't I have that right? Don't you want to hold my hand?" 

"O'course I do." 

"Then, we shall hold hands." Lucien asserted. "I love you, and I want to hold your hand." He repeated. 

Mundy smiled as he felt all sorts of butterflies in his stomach. They walked around until they were at the foot of the impressive ferris wheel.

"Come along,  _ mon chaton." _

_ [My kitten] _

A few minutes later, both were in a cabin alone, on the ferris wheel. 

"I didn't know you liked the ferris wheel, Lu'." 

"I like to have a beautiful view, it is a treat for the eyes." 

The wheel started turning and both of them looked around as they slowly took off the ground and moved higher and higher in the sky. 

"You're right, it's beautiful!" 

"Is it your first time in such an attraction?" Lucien asked. 

"Yeah… Never done it before." 

Lucien moved to sit not opposite but next to Mundy. 

" _ Mon amour?" _

[My love?]

"Yeah?" Mundy looked his lover in the eye. 

"I took the plush kitten because that is what you are in my eyes, a priceless and charming cat."

"I'm not small though, eh?" 

"Not in physical size, non. But it is exactly what you are,  _ my kitten. _ " 

Mundy laced an arm around Lucien who leaned on his shoulder. The wheel was still moving. 

"And you didn't have to help me with the rifle because, well, you do not have to do anything if you don't want to. But also, it was all a show. Of course I know how to handle a rifle."

Mundy's eyebrows jumped. They were now surrounded only by the blue of the sky, higher than any tree or building. 

"Why did you ask me then?" 

"Because I wanted to feel you against me and I thought that it was a good reason for you to hold me close without anyone giving us weird looks." 

Mundy smiled. 

"You're one hell of a Spook, always playing games to get what you want…" 

"Not always. Sometimes I just look at you," Lucien raised his head and Mundy looked down at his eyes. "And I just ask you, please, Mundy…" 

"Lord, you're gorgeous when you look up at me like that…" 

Mundy bent down and pulled Lucien to meet his lips. They kissed as the ferris wheel slowed down to a halt at the highest point. From there, they could see the entire city, the business district with tall buildings, residential areas, parks, church towers. They saw none of that from their cloud. They couldn't. 

"I love you…" Mundy hugged Lucien dearly. 

"I love you too,  _ mon chaton." _

[My kitten.]

"Did you… I mean, do you enjoy yourself here? I quite like fairs and I wanted to share that with you." Mundy put his lips on Lucien's hair. 

"I didn't like it, until I met you. Seeing your face brighten up and your smile… That I really enjoy."

"Thanks, darl' but, for yourself?" 

"Maybe you can do something for me to enjoy it more?" 

"Is that another way to ask me to kiss you?" 

They looked at each other fondly and Lucien nodded. 

"I can't get enough of you, I'm sorry…" 

They locked their lips again but this time, Mundy wanted to give more, to make sure that Lucien would keep a long lasting memory of the fair. The Aussie  _ added the French to the kiss _ and felt Lucien melt entirely. His breath, his hold on Mundy, everything just melted away. He was sinking slowly and in the sweetest way, his tongue massaged Lucien's in the slowest and most loving way. Even moaning was hard for the poor, overly romantic Frenchman who barely held on to Mundy's collar. 

When they broke the kiss, an obscene thread of wetness still connected their lips. 

"I love you so much, Mundy." Lucien buried his head deep against Mundy's chest.

"Me too, love, you're everything, absolutely everything." 

And the wheel turned, bringing them back to Earth, even though they were still high from their passionate moment of love.


	64. Mundy's date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "May I have a fic Of sniper trying to prepare a sexy evening and failing miserably there’s something about mundy being a hopeless romantic for spy but having no experience at all that makes me giggle"

* * *

"Right, the food is cookin' and it smells nice, I'm doing well, I'm doing well…"

Mundy wiped the sweat off his brow as he put a lid on the pan. He was trying his best. Tonight he had invited the handsome Spy for a date, and this time, the shy Sniper wanted to impress. He had it all prepared. He had rehearsed that recipe in secret multiple times. 

Spy had taken him to multiple different places, fancy restaurants that Mundy never thought he would see unless it was in movies. There was an Italian place, a Japanese one and of course, the French restaurant where Mundy realised that indeed, Spy was  _ very French. _ The man in the suit and tie seemed to know the staff there well. He spoke to them in French as fluently, and infinitely more easily, than Mundy would in English. Unlike him, Spy knew how to talk to people without it feeling awkward or clumsy.

This time, Sniper wanted to invite Spy to experience something different. He had thought about typical Australian dishes but it didn't seem right. Nah, he wanted to try and surprise Spy. He had told him his favourite dish was the ratatouille that his mother used to prepare. He had said that it was about the only memory he had of her, her long dark hair and her smile that brought a unique kind of warmth to him.

Mundy had since looked up the ingredients and different recipes. He had tried countless ones until he chose one that pleased him most, hoping that Spy would like it. 

"Bugger, I forgot the suit!" 

He knew Spy was off to town, to get more cigarettes and it would take him a while to come back. So he took advantage of his absence to get everything ready before Spy would come back. 

Mundy ran back to his van and took the suit he had prepared. It wasn't even as sharp as one of Spy's work ones. It was old and he had got it from his father. The sleeves were a bit too short and the collar was quite large, from a fashion long gone. But it was the only suit Mundy had so it would do. He had bought a bowtie for the occasion and had asked how to tie it properly. When he had a few minutes to spare and Spy was far, he would rehearse the choreography to make the knot, again and again. 

Mundy ran back to the base, the suit in a plastic bag. He went to the small laundry room where there was everything necessary to iron the suit. He looked up at the clock and got started fast. 

Oh he hoped Spy hadn't caught him doing any of those preparations. Mundy made a lot of effort to make it a surprise but Spy being a spy, he had a nasty habit of noticing the smallest of odd details and make his deductions flow down to guess what Mundy was up to.

Mundy had even asked Pyro to stay at the base's front door and tell him when he saw Spy's bright red Italian car, even though he had given a precise time to Spy and knew he would be on time.

"Oh God, the ratatouille!"

He had left it in a pan on the stove while ironing his shirt and trousers. Mundy slipped them on hastily and ran back to the kitchen. He managed to rescue the French dish just in time and took the pan out to his campervan, the ratatouille still bubbling and steaming.

"Roight, now, table…" 

As soon as he put the pan down in his van, Mundy unfolded a table and chairs outside. He had bought a red tablecloth for the occasion and a couple of candles. He lit them up and made sure that the van was parked such that it laid between the table and the base, hiding them from the eyes of their colleagues. He then laid the plates and cutlery as well as the glasses. Two for Spy and two for him. Spy had always been more than strict and would never mix water and wine, even if it was for a single drop.

"Napkins…" 

Mundy slipped in the van again and got the nice ones he had bought a few weeks before. They were beige and went beautifully with the cashmere motifs on the tablecloth, which were also beige. He also retrieved the bottle of wine from the château that Spy had mentioned when they were at that French place. It had been hell to find, but he was hoping that the surprise would be worth it.

"Candles, chairs, plates, forks…" Mundy's eyes darted from one item to the next on the table. He pondered, wondering whether he had forgotten anything, as he tied his bowtie. "Oh! The rose!" 

Mundy took a glass and used it as a vase for the deep red rose he had been hiding for a few days already. 

"Mmmph! Mph!" 

Pyro came running at Sniper and stopped sharp when he saw Mundy not in his usual clothes but in a suit and bowtie. 

"Right, thanks Pyro, I'll take it from here!" 

Pyro returned to the base, not understanding why Sniper was dressed in such an unusual fashion. 

Mundy poured the ratatouille in their plates and took a seat on the chair. He waited, knowing that Spy would come soon. He heard him park his car and slam its door shut. 

_ Come on… Come on… _

Mundy was so focused on his hearing that he almost could perceive Spy's light footsteps and as he closed his eyes, he could see the elegant, feline gait, the long, thin legs and the piercing eyes.

Mundy smiled without realising it. His insides were warm and there was something oddly pleasing about it all. He was waiting for Spy, longing for him, but with the certainty that he would appear very soon. The footsteps grew louder and louder until…

"Hello-oh…?"

"Hey, Spy, uh…" Mundy stood up. "Tadaa, I guess?" He awkwardly added, extending his arms towards the table.

Spy's shoulders sank as his jaw dropped a bit at the sight of his colleague in a suit that obviously wasn't fitting him.

"What…?"

"I uh, this is, well, I tried to make some dinner if that's ok for you?" 

"Of course, of course."

"C'mere and sit down. I hope it's still hot." 

Spy took a seat on the plastic foldable chair and in a quick glance, he noticed it all. Sniper's attempt at using hair product, his fresh shave, the collar of his shirt that reminded him of Elvis Presley given the size of it, the bowtie that wasn't straight. And then on the table, the soft tablecloth, the napkins that had a slight golden sheen under the candlelight, and of course the ratatouille in the plate, under the rose that was standing in the improvised vase. 

"Did you prepare all this?"

"I-I tried my best, uhm, try the ratatouille, please." Mundy answered as he was sweating bullets. He hoped that he didn't mess it up and hos anxiety was rising as he saw Spy take a couple of slices of the courgettes in the thick tomato sauce before raising it to his nose. He closed his eyes and smelt it. Spy frowned and Mundy bit his lip.

He then put it on his tongue and slowly pulled the fork out. Spy took his time and did not bite at first. He let the taste of it all come to him before letting his teeth sink in. His tongue managed to find the garlic, the onions, the herbs and as he closed his eyes, he heard the crickets sing in summer, in the South of France, the distant bells of the church ringing loudly across the village as yet another young couple celebrated their union on a hot Sunday… 

"Mon Dieu…" He said as he opened his eyes. 

[My God…]

"W-what? Is it bad? Oh I knew I shouldn't have left it to cook that long, I-I just thought I had enough time to get my suit sorted meanwhile but of course I forgot about it and when I came back, I-"

"Mundy." It was the first time Spy used Sniper's name. How he managed to learn it was beyond Mundy and all he knew now was that he had blushed beyond his ears and they almost burnt under the embarrassment. 

"Y-yeah?" 

"This is excellent, Mundy. I am speechless…"

Mundy smiled in pride. 

"Really? It tastes like it should?" 

" _ Oui,  _ really, I am astounded! I didn't know you could cook French dishes?"

Mundy started digging in his plate and their conversations were now punctuated by a concerto of forks on plates in delight major.

"Well, neither did I, eh? I just… I just learnt." 

"You took lessons?" Spy raised an eyebrow. 

"N-not really, I did it like I learnt shooting, I just trained."

"What do you mean,  _ 'you trained'?" _ Spy asked. 

"I cooked it a lot of times. I tried different recipes, oh and I had Pyro to help me taste it, just to get a second opinion, y'know." 

Spy smiled. 

"All this effort for just one dinner?" He asked.

"Y-yeah… I mean… You took me to all the fancy places that exist in town so I didn't have many options left…"

"Are you apologising?" 

"Kind of. But I'm really glad you like this ratat-oh?" 

Spy slid his hand on the table and his fingers lazily laced between Mundy's. 

"Please don't." Spy almost whispered and Mundy blushed again as he saw the ice-drop like eyes riveted on his. 

"Don't what?" 

"Don't apologise. You are offering me something that is priceless."

"What d'you mean?" 

Mundy felt Spy's thumb brush his and he made him very hot all of a sudden. 

"The time you have spent trying your best to cook something that you knew I would love, all that time and effort, no one can buy that from you. I should be the one apologising for taking you to restaurants when you bless me with such extraordinary gifts."

Mundy smiled. 

"I… No… You're not gettin' it, Spook-"

"Lucien." 

"What does that mean?" Mundy's eyebrows jumped as he didn't know that French word.

"Technically, it comes from the latin  _ 'lux'  _ which means 'light'. So Lucien means  _ 'the luminous one' _ ."

"Why d'you say that word like that?" Mundy was confused. 

"Because it is my name." 

"Oh…" Mundy's jaw dropped. "Y-your name is  _ Lyucian? _ " 

Lucien smiled. 

"With your accent, oui. With mine, it is Lucien." 

"Oh sorry, I can't pronounce it right, the sound at the end is…"

"I know, but I would never complain about accent, I never did." Lucien added as he bent forward on the table. Mundy mimicked him, not even realising it. 

They devoured each other's gaze, their eyes fenced in lagoon blue and ice grey. 

"Mundy?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Your bowtie is not straight, and your suit is…  _ original _ , tonight."

"Oh, bugger, I really wanted to get it right, I'm sorry…"

Mundy backed off and removed his hand off Lucien's, trying to adjust his bowtie as best as he could. 

"Gosh I can't get it right without a mirror… I-I'm sorry, I swear I know how to make them, I learnt it when I bought this one and uh, I trained and stuff, so I know how to tie it properly but the damn thing sometimes just isn't right, argh…"

"May I help?"

Mundy sighed and let his shoulders sink in defeat, his head lowered. 

"Yeah, well, I ruined it…" 

He stood up his chair and went to his van, locking the door after himself, in shame. Lucien was left here, speechless. 

_ Merde. _ He thought.

[Shit.]

He had not meant for his remark to offend Mundy, he was about to say that he found it more that touching that he had gone through all that trouble just for one dinner. Lucien never felt like he was going on a crusade when he took Mundy out. And now that he was left alone at the table where the candles glimmered and waved under the night breeze, he understood why.

Contrary to him, Mundy wasn't confident in himself. He didn't think and he didn't know that he was handsome, and that his shyness only made him more endearing. Non, chances are he thought that that dinner was a challenge, he had worked hard for it, rehearsing it like a show, just to impress Lucien…! 

The Frenchman frowned. Mundy hadn't ruined anything, on the contrary, Lucien understood that it was all on him. He stood off his chair and went to the van's door, a few steps away. 

He didn't even knock to not make it more awkward. Non. He went to his breast pocket and retrieved his cigarette case. He then took the two pins that were concealed there and picked the van's lock easily before slipping in, as silently as a shadow. 

Mundy was curled in a ball in his bed, giving his back to the door. Lucien removed his shoes and his jacket before climbing up the ladder and sliding behind Mundy in his bed.

"What the-?! Huh?!" 

He gasped when he finally felt Lucien spooning him. 

"What the hell are you doin' here?!" 

Lucien had laced his arms around him. 

"Asking for forgiveness for my being most rude with you, and cuddling with you because I have yearned for it for too long." 

Mundy turned to face Lucien. 

"I'm sorry." Lucien said, his hand on Mundy's cheek now. "I meant to express how moved I am that you made all these efforts for just a dinner. You dressed up nicely, you shaved, you even are wearing a perfume that I have only smelt when I take you out. And that is without counting the Godly ratatouille you prepared for us tonight, the rose in the vase, the tablecloth that was so brand new that you forgot to remove its price tag." 

Lucien chuckled and they stared in each other's eyes.

"You're so bloody wrong." Mundy answered. The ceiling window gave them just enough moonlight to see each other. Lucien frowned. 

"What do you mean?" He asked. 

"You think that I worked hard to make that ratatouille. I didn't. It didn't feel like work. I was happy to try to make it, to make you smile, even just a tiny bit. I have no clue what a proper one tastes like but the way you talked about your mum's got stuck in my mind. I wanted to try it and maybe you'll remember me a bit, through it."

Lucien's fingers were brushing Mundy's cheek, his rough skin and his sideburns. Mundy loved the warmth.

"And for the suit, bah, it's my dad's. He's shorter than me. It used to fit me well back in the days but uh, not so much now…"

"Mundy?" 

"Yeah?" 

Lucien smiled. 

"How come you are a professional hunter and you happen to be that delicate and sensitive?"

"I-I don't know… I don't like it either, mate, I-"

"Who said I didn't like it?" Lucien interrupted him. "I love it almost as much as I do you." 

Mundy's eyes snapped wide. 

"What…?"

"You heard me right." Lucien answered. "Why do you think I want to treat you to all the delicacies in the world? Do you think I take anyone else than you to all these places?"

He let the silence weigh for a few seconds. 

"And why do you think I go through all this, only with you?" 

Again, the silence answered his question. That, and his irresistibly charming smile. 

"Come here." 

Lucien pulled Mundy and laced his arms around his head, such that now Mundy used Lucien's upper chest as a pillow. The Frenchman lost his fingers in the Aussie's hair. 

" _ I love you, Mundy."  _ He whispered. 

Mundy screwed his eyes shut. 

_ "M-me too."  _

And he buried his head deeper in Lucien's chest, as he felt a few pecks land on his head, through his hair. 


	65. The spicy quarrel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Mundy and Lu get into an innuendo war. It starts off innocently, then it gradually escalates to the point where its every other sentence they say to each other. It gets too much when they have no shame and start doing it in front of other teammates (who and how many times it happens is up to you), and they finally have to stop when another teammate (Medic maybe) has to step in and tell them off. :3"

* * *

"Mundy, what did I tell you about my cigarettes…?"

"That they're awfully expensive?" Mundy answered from the sofa and Lucien rolled his eyes. 

"Non," He sighed, annoyed, "I told you that the case should always be either in my breast pocket, or on the night table." 

"Ah, yeah, and?" 

"And they are not in either of those places." Lucien added, irritated, and as he emerged out of his (now their) room, he saw Mundy with one of the said cigarettes between his lips. "Where did you put the case again?" 

"I don't know, can't remember, but it can't be far…" 

Lucien was tired. 

"If it is indeed that close, find it back and put it where it should be!" 

"Alright, alright, no need to make a fuss!"

"Yes there is a need to make a fuss! How many times have I told you already? I am happy for you to help yourself to anything that I have, but it needs to still go back to where it belongs! Argh…" Lucien sighed. "You are such a child sometimes! It's almost as if you do it on purpose!" 

"On purpose?! D'you think I take yer cigs around for a walk?! Nah! Anyway, it's dinner time, we should go with the others."

Lucien grumbled and took Mundy's glasses off his very head. 

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I am hiding your glasses."

"You're what?!"

"I am hiding your glasses." Lucien repeated. 

"Why are you doing that?" 

"Maybe that way you will understand how painfully annoying it is to not find something!" 

And on that Lucien cloaked, hiding from his lover's sight. 

"Lu'?! Come back here and give me my glasses back!" Mundy crushed his cigarette butt in the ashtray and stood up. "D'you really think I take yer cigs and hide them just for fun?!"

He looked around him and couldn't see Lucien, neither could he hear him.

"For fuck's sake, Lu'?!"

He decloaked in front of Mundy with a devilish smile on his lips. 

"Let's go and have some dinner, shall we?" Lucien said with a voice so calm that it made Mundy angrier. 

They both left their room and went to the kitchen. Engie and Pyro had prepared some spaghetti Bolognese and all the mercenaries were around the table, enjoying their meal and chatting away until…

"Ooh, what's wrong, fancypants? You're not saying anything?" Scout asked Spy. 

"Oh, my apologies, Scout, I couldn't hear you over the delightful sound of Sniper's boiling rage." He answered, wiping the corners of his mouth elegantly with his napkin. Sniper raised furious eyes to him. 

"Oh, wow, I didn't know he could get angry!" Scout said. "And where are your glasses, Snipes? You must feel so weird without them, hehe."

"Oh, oui." Spy continued. "He must feel almost naked in front of us all."

"You bloody mongrel…" He mumbled between his teeth. "My glasses are wherever on Earth you put them!"

Scout's eyebrows jumped. 

"You use his glasses?!" He asked Spy. 

"Non, I don't. I just put them somewhere he won't find them." Spy's arrogant smile made Sniper clench his fists harder on his cutlery. 

"Why would you do that, lad?" Demo asked. 

"I am teaching him a lesson. Do not place things anywhere else but where they should be."

"He's pissed off cause he can't find his bloody cigs, and so he stole my glasses and put them God knows where!" Sniper explained. "And you call  _ me _ childish?"

"Oui, I call you exactly that, Bushman! You know very well that I cannot stand to not find my belongings!"

The fight started anew in front of all their colleagues this time. Of course, they all knew that Spy and Sniper had a  _ special _ relationship, but none of them had seen them quarrel, or seen Sniper actually getting angry. 

"Yeah Mister Everything's-Bloody-Perfect-And-Organised! I know you're obsessed with having everything tidied up perfectly!"

"I am  _ not _ obsessed! I just like things to be where they should, don't you agree, Monsieur I-Behave-Like-A-Child?!"

And the tennis match went on between the two as the mercenaries swung their eyes left and right while eating their spaghetti. 

"Uhm, Spy, maybe it would be better to keep this with Sniper?" Medic tried to reason them. 

"I do agree with you, but my  _ companion  _ here prefers to continue making me angry before your eyes!"

"Your  _ companion?!" _ Sniper repeated. 

"Oui, what would you prefer? The nonsensical child I choose to burden myself with?!" Spy answered.

"Oh how the tables turned! They didn't just turn, mate, they spun to bloody space! Now I'm a burden, am I?" 

"Right now?  _ Oui!" _

"You didn't call me a burden last night, eh?" 

Spy dropped his fork and all the mercenaries blushed, apart from Soldier and Demo… 

_ "Look, private, I put 20 American US of A dollars on that Frenchie with a suit."  _ He half-whispered to Demo. 

"Nah, laddie, you don't know them Aussies, they're stubborn as all hell! I'll put me money on Sniper."

"Non, last night, you were not a burden," Spy answered, "Odd how quickly things can change in a few hours."

"Yeah well, and what a few hours, eh?"

Spy went from red to crimson and even with his mask on, it showed. He screwed his eyes shut and exhaled from his nostrils, like a mad bull. Demo and Soldier were excitedly following the fight like a game of boxing while Engie and Medic's jaws had dropped, Heavy crossed his arms on his chest and shook his head, disappointed, Scout had slammed both his hands on his mouth in an attempt to not burst out laughing, and Pyro wasn't understanding what the fuss was all about.

But Sniper saw how embarrassed his lover was and decided to go on, push him to his limits. 

"Yeah, cause it lasted hours last night, didn't it?" He smiled evilly.

Spy kept his head low. 

"Oh, yeah it did, and you remember what you called me, hm?"

Engie slammed his hands on Pyro's ears. 

"Uhm, Py', uh, why don't you go and have lunch outside, eh? See the pretty bugs you like?" 

Pyro nodded excitedly and took his plate before leaving. He wasn't going to question Engie's odd decision. He had always refused to let him go and eat outside with his beloved insects, but if he changed his mind, Pyro wasn't going to give Engie the time to come back on his own decision.

Meanwhile, Spy was thinking fast. There was no way Sniper would go too far with his words, the man was too shy for that. In that case, it was all bluff and Spy decided to turn the situation in his favour. He smiled as he made his mind to push Sniper to his limits, which he knew couldn't be much further. Spy took his fork again in his hand and elegantly swirled it around the pasta in his plate. 

"I'm afraid my memory is not what it used to be, Sniper. Pray refresh it and tell me what I called you last night?" 

Oh the arrogance and the nerve of Spy sometimes…! Sniper clenched his jaw. He didn't want to go further in the debate, he had thought that Spy would stop before him as he usually was the most reasonable of them two. But he also happened to be the least shy and not quite as prude as Sniper… 

"Bloody hell…" Sniper sighed and he thought in his mind that if Spy was ready to go down that road, he would follow him, because that was the only way to destabilise him and maybe get the upper hand. Sniper raised his eyes to meet his lover's dangerous smirk.

"Well, you did call me  _ 'please, please Sniper never stop',  _ amongst other things…" Sniper put his fork in his mouth and slurped the spaghetti with the widest smile as Spy's jaw dropped, his lips visibly parting and his pupils retracting to a dot. 

"And then I was  _ 'Oh, you make me feel so good',  _ I think there was a  _ 'Mon Dieu',  _ nah actually there were lots of them but I couldn't hear it very clearly cause you were biting the pillow, trying to smother yer own moans…" 

Spy could not believe his ears and his eyes. Was it truly happening?! How?! From the corner of his eye, he saw Demo take an enthusiastic swig of his scrumpy. 

Spy was however confident. Sniper had got bold in a way that didn't exactly look like him, oui, but did he forget how dirty Spy's mind was…?

"Ah oui, indeed! You are a God in bed, it is true." 

Medic almost buried his head in his plate, face first in the spaghetti and their sauce. 

"Non, I mean it. Rarely have I slept with a man that could make me sing in octaves that my voice never explored before." 

Soldier nudged Demo with his elbow and rubbed his hands. 

"Do not be mistaken, Gentlemen." Spy addressed the rest of the crew. "In my extensive experience of lovers, never have I met anyone, man or woman, who was so skilled with their hands as he is."

"What the fuck d'you mean?!" Scout now slowly turned from amused to mildly scared at how far the two least sociable mercenaries now unravelled their private lives in front of the rest of them. 

"What I mean, Scout, is that Sniper here is a formidable love partner." 

Sniper was confused beyond what his mind could comprehend. He was sweating bullets with the heat of the embarrassment but at the same time, he couldn't help but feel proud at the compliments that Spy was listing. 

"This man, sitting in front of me, knows how to use his hands very well, touching, pulling and grabbing, groping even. He makes love like the wild animal that he hides behind his blush."

Spy went on, unfazed.

"And he is very versatile with his strong hands. He would sometimes palm me, grasping my flesh as if it belonged to him, and other times, he would let his curious fingertips explore, graze the surface of my skin, send shivers everywhere, make my hairs stand up and bend down under his magnetic touch."

Sniper pulled his hat down to cover his face and Spy smirked. 

"I should also mention his lips and tongue. His lips are absolutely delicious, if a bit chapped at times, when I don't remind him to take care of them. He has a way of finding my weaknesses and play with them in the most exquisite way with them."

Spy finished his plate and, sitting back on his chair, he continued.

"If he isn't very prolific with his words, the man reserves his tongue for other uses. His kisses are like none other. They convey all the complexity of his emotions. They can be quick and efficient, or slower, mellow, even sloppy sometimes. The slickness is perfect."

Heavy nudged Medic with his elbow and nodded in direction of the door. Medic understood and both of them headed off.

"And that is just when he uses his tongue on mine." Spy continued undisturbed. 

Sniper hunched his back, pulling the hat more, clenching his fingers on it. He screwed his eyes shut beneath it. 

"Oui, when Sniper makes love to me, it is unlike any other thing I have experienced in my long life."

Scout looked at Engie, his eyes bigger than planets and both decided to leave. Soldier was almost jumping on his seat with excitement next to Demo who was watching, his one eye wide open. 

Spy pushed his chair back and stood up. He walked around the table as he spoke. 

"Non, Sniper is the lover that I could only dream of meeting, someone who can make my heart  _ and the rest _ burst."

"S-spook…" Sniper barely managed to speak but Spy ignored it and continued. 

"Oh, did you want to add something? Do you want to perhaps enlighten us on how good of a lover I am? This won't come as a surprise to anyone, my reputation precedes me in this field. My reputation, and the clichés associated with my country of origin. However, in your case,  _ that _ is one curious surprise." 

Soldier opened his hand, palm up, to Demo who sighed before putting the money in it. They stood up and left the kitchen, leaving only Spy and Sniper together. 

"You, the shy man in a van, the prude and always-blushing kangaroo with absurdly long legs, _ you _ ," Spy was now behind Sniper's chair. He pulled it away from the table. "You are a surprise and a half." 

Sniper would have eaten his hat out of embarrassment in front of the others. 

"You are able to drive me, a trained intelligence expert, absolutely mad with anger, or lust, or even both." 

Sniper got startled as he felt something on his lap. He jerked his head up and moved his hat away. Spy was sitting on his lap, straddling his thighs with a smile that Sniper found very hard to resist. 

Meanwhile, Engie crossed the corridor and was about to exit the base when-

"What in Samhill are y'all doing here?"

"Sshhh!" Scout put a finger on his lips. Him and all the rest of the mercenaries were in front of the kitchen door. There was a window in it through which they were all watching the quarrel between Sniper and Spy. 

"C'mere, Hard Hat." Scout pulled Engie to stand in front of him and join them. They were watching through that slim window like they would a TV show. 

"S-spook…"

Inside the kitchen, Spy and Sniper were still talking. 

"Oui,  _ mon amour?" _

[My love?]

Sniper wanted to put his hands on Spy's sides but it felt weird. Wasn't he still angry?

"I-I'm sorry, I'll look for your cigarettes and put them back in your pocket."

Spy bent forward and gently put his forehead on Sniper's while his hands cupped his face. 

"Where are the others?" Sniper asked. 

"They are right behind the kitchen door observing us as if we couldn't see them back."

Sniper turned to see his colleagues at the door and he panicked. 

"W-what are you doin' on my lap then, they're watch-hm?!" 

Spy put his index on Sniper's lips and turned his head such that he was now facing him. 

"They have been knowing for us for a long time. Also, after what we have been saying today, I think there isn't much left to hide." Spy chuckled. " _ Mon amour,  _ I am sorry for what happened today, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything, I am just tired of looking for my things all the time…"

Sniper looked his lover in the eyes and smiled.

"I know, darl'. I should be the one apologising. I love you." Sniper wrapped his arms around Spy and pulled him such that they held each other close. 

"I love you too, Sniper." 

"Spook?"

"Oui?"

"Did you really think what you said?" 

"What?" 

"Everything you said to the others, did you really mean it?" 

Spy broke the embrace and cupped Sniper's face again. 

"What do you think?" 

"I-I don't know…" 

"Mundy, if anybody else but you had used my cigarette case, do you think that I would forgive them?"

"Yeah, yeah I think you would." Mundy honestly answered. 

"Then you have changed me in more ways than I thought." Lucien brushed his thumbs on Mundy's rough cheeks. "I love you." 

"Me too, darl'. I-I really thought you'd stay mad at me forever…" Mundy finally put his hands on Lucien's sides and the Frenchman locked his feet behind Mundy's back.

"With anyone else but you, oui. But not you. You count too much."

Lucien bent forward and put his lips on Mundy's. 

"Pardners, we really shouldn't stay here-" 

Engie wanted to head away but Scout held him in place with two firm hands on his shoulders. 

"I win again! It's Spy who kissed Sniper!" Soldier announced. "And that's another 20 American God-blessed U.S.D. dollars that you owe me, you English imperialist!"

"I'm Scottish, lad, nothin' to do with the English."

"You're exactly the same, except that you wear a skirt like a lady-oh…?"

Lucien and Mundy were now very much at ease alone in the kitchen and with a twist of his tongue, Lucien managed to make him forget that the rest of the team was still watching.

"Oh and Mundy?"

"Yeah?" 

"Of course I meant what I said. I don't lie."

Mundy raised a doubtful eyebrow.

"I don't lie to you, or about you." 

Mundy nodded with a smile and bent forward to take Lucien's lower lip between his, before letting his hands pull him as hard as he could. 

"Lu'?" 

"Oui?"

"My glasses, where did you put them?"

Lucien smiled. 

"As close as I could to my heart." 

Mundy frowned for a second, not understanding what Lucien meant.

“Where is my heart, Mundy?”

Mundy put his hand on Spy’s chest, on his jacket and felt something odd. He looked up at Lucien’s eyes, who nodded. Mundy opened the jacket and put his hand in his breast pocket.

“Oh…?”

“I told you, they were as close as I could put them to my heart.”

Lucien took the glasses off Mundy’s hands and put them on his nose. 

“There you are, oh and here.” He added the hat. “Now you are the good old shy Sniper.”

“Nah, love,” Lucien’s eyebrows jumped. “I’m the man who makes love to you like the animal he hides behind his blush.” Mundy quoted Lucien and the Frenchman smiled.

_ “Please do.” _


	66. The instant noodles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mundy cooks for Lu' and wants to make him discover cheap food that he loves. This time, his choice went to instant NOODZ

"Alright, darl', take a seat." 

Lucien raised a curious eyebrow. That night, Mundy had promised to make him discover a type of food that he was sure he had never had before. Lucien had been doubtful ever since. Well travelled as he is, he had had a taste of about anything on this Earth. But the idea of Mundy trying to surprise him was too alluring to refuse. 

"Fine."

Mundy had laid a table just outside of his van, with two foldable chairs. Lucien sat down. 

"Tell me, have you prepared it in your van?" 

"Yeah, you don't need much for this. Just a minute more and it should be ready." 

Lucien smirked in anticipation. 

"May I at least know where it comes from?" 

"A supermarket." Mundy answered with a smile as he sat down in front of Lucien. 

"That is not what I meant, Mundy." 

"Maybe, but that's what you asked, love." He winked and Lucien smiled. 

"You are insufferable." Lucien answered. 

"And that's why you love me." 

"Maybe." 

They chuckled. 

"Right, give me a minute, I'll be back with your surprise dinner." Mundy stood up and walked past Lucien but as he did so, Lucien took his hand and stopped him. "What?" 

Lucien pulled on the arm and Mundy bent down. 

_ "Je t'aime."  _ He whispered.

_ [I love you.] _

"Love you too, darl'." 

Their lips met quickly and Mundy brushed Lucien's cheek on the mask as he went away. A minute later, he emerged from his van with two bowls in his hands. 

"Careful, it's hot!"

"Are you talking about the food or…?" Lucien asked playfully. 

"The food, for sure, and for the rest, you're the judge of that, eh." Mundy put a bowl in front of Lucien and another one in front of himself. 

"Noodles?" Lucien asked. "I know noodles, Mundy, I've had them countless times in my life before!" 

Mundy sat down in front of Lucien.

"Yeah but I bet you've never had these. C'mon, try them!"

Lucien took the chopsticks that were on the table and slurped some of the noodles. When his eyes rose again, Mundy was devouring him with his. 

"Hm," Lucien said as he tasted them. "There are a lot of spices but no vegetables or meat in your soup. It is just water and noodles!"

"Yeah, those are instant noodles, mate."

"What?! Did you just serve me  _ instant noodles?!" _

"Yep! Now, have you ever tried them before?" 

Lucien wiped his mouth with the paper towel on the table. 

"Non but-"

"Then I really managed to serve you something you've never had before!" Mundy concluded proudly. 

"Oui, I guess…"

"How is it?"

"Not too bad actually. I've always had a thing against cheap, industrial food but I can see why people like it."

"Really?" 

Lucien raised his ice blue, almost grey eyes to Mundy. 

"Oui, I really believe so. The flavours are very strong, though. It doesn't need to be that much." 

"Yeah but that's how most people like their food. They can't taste anythin' unless it's very strong, love."

"People have no clue that the beauty of tasting comes from the intricate nuances."

"Only posh people like you think like that."

Lucien smiled.

"Not only. You are like that too, you can appreciate the food I like as much as I do,  _ mon amour." _

_ [My love] _

"Yeah well, that's only since I started knowing you a bit better, eh." 

Mundy's smile vanished when he saw his lover frown. He had eaten most of the noodles but Lucien suddenly didn't seem as comfortable.

"You don't like it?" 

"Non, non, I do like it…" 

"Take your time and if you don't like it, we can always get the leftovers from what the others prepared." 

"Oui." 

The truth was that the noodles were too spicy for the Frenchman who was used to more delicate flavours. He tried eating more of it but he was only sweating bullets and he felt his mouth and throat were on fire. He swiftly removed his balaclava and Mundy's head jerked up from his bowl. His first reflex was to make sure no one could see him from the base. Luckily, the van was parked such that it blocked the view from the windows of the base.

"You alright?" 

Lucien started coughing and clearing his throat repeatedly. 

"O-oui, ahem, I-I am fine-" And a new fit off coughs seized him. 

"Bugger, it's too hot for you!" Mundy realised and leapt to his van. He came out with some milk that he poured in his lover's glass. "Drink that, love." 

Lucien obeyed without questioning it. He downed the glass so fast that some of it was spilling out of the corners of his mouth. 

"I-I'm sorry, I forgot you can't stand very hot food, Gosh, what have I done…?"

Mundy undid Lucien's tie and the first few buttons of his shirt. 

"It's fine, I shouldn't have taken so much of it." Lucien said, between two coughs. 

"Is it better?" 

"N-non, not really - Ahem - Mundy, get me some vodka, please!" 

"Vodka?!"

Lucien nodded as he poured more of the milk in the glass. 

"Right right, I'll ask Heavy, give me a minute!" 

And Mundy darted off and came back a minute later with a bottle of Heavy's vodka. 

"Here, drink this."

He poured some in the glass and Lucien downed it fast. 

"I'm so sorry, love, I shouldn't have cooked everything with the chili powder… I-I was so focused on the noodles themselves that…"

"Ahhh…" Lucien put the glass back on the table with a loud clinking noise. He blinked repeatedly to emerge from the heat of both the chili and the alcohol. "Much better…" 

"You kidding me?" 

"Non, non… Dairy products are good but nothing dilutes and cleanses everything away like alcohol…"

"I thought you hated vodka?"

"I do," Lucien answered, "But it nonetheless has its uses." 

He looked down and realised his suit was all stained with the milk that had overflowed. 

"Ah, merde…" 

[Ah, shit…]

"Well, looks like you need to wash your suit before putting it on again, eh?" 

Lucien sighed. 

"Oui, it looks like it… Sorry about the scene, Mundy, I felt that they were quite hot but I liked the noodles so much that I thought I could get over it." 

"Oh, so you really liked them?"

"Of course I did." Lucien wiped his mouth and neck from the dripping milk. "Thank you for making this dinner truly memorable." 

"Well, I think  _ you _ did that, not me, love." 

They chuckled. 

"We both did, in different ways." 

Mundy smiled and stared at his lover. 

"Wanna go back to your room and get a change?" 

"If you don't mind? You're welcome to follow me of course." Lucien stood up.

"Only follow you?" Mundy asked as he wrapped an arm around Lucien's waist. 

"Maybe you can undress me too, hm?"

"Ah, now that's a good offer, to start with." 

"To start with?" Lucien asked as they headed to the base. "And what then?" 

Mundy opened the door and whispered to his ear. 

"Once you're naked, God knows what I'll do to you…" He growled. 

They walked through the corridor and met with Engie, Scout and Pyro. 

"What the fuck is that?!" Scout shouted, pointing at Spy. 

"What?" 

"Man, we all know you're together but come on!"

"What are you on about?" Sniper asked. 

Engie's jaw dropped. 

"Please pardners, tell me these are milk stains on your suit…" 

Mundy and Lucien looked at each other when they understood what Scout and Engie thought it was. 

"Of c-hm?!" Mundy wanted to answer but Lucien thought otherwise and put a hand on his mouth to stop him. 

"All I can tell you, Scout, is that Sniper made me discover a new kind of dinner." He smirked as Sniper and Engie blushed beyond their ears. Scout smacked his hands on his mouth. 

"I think I'm gonna-hm!" Scout rushed to the bathroom as Spy burst out laughing.

"It is indeed only milk, Engineer! Sniper prepared some food that was too spicy for me and I had to drink a lot of it for it to stop burning."

Engie relaxed and exhaled with a hand on his chest. 

"You really had me there for a second, Spy." 

"You had me too! How the hell do you lie that well?!" Mundy said as he removed Lucien's hand from his mouth. 

"Well, I am paid for it, I might as well enjoy myself. Good night to you, gentlemen." 

Lucien and Mundy passed Engie and Pyro in the corridor.

"Yeah, g'night Spy, Sniper."

"See ya mate." 

A few moments later, Lucien and Mundy were alone in Spy's suite. 

"You really surprised me back there, love." 

"With what?"

"Never thought you could pull a prank just like that on Scout." 

"He does it often enough on me, it was an easy revenge."

"Yeah… Anyway, c'mere you…" Mundy pulled Lucien to him as they entered the bedroom and he shut the door by kicking it back with his foot. "You've got a promise to keep." 

Mundy removed Lucien's jacket and started undoing the buttons of his shirt eagerly. 

"You too,  _ mon chaton. _ I have yet to see what you will do to me once I'm nak-hm?"

[My kitten.]

Mundy's lips had landed on Lucien faster than he had thought they could and they forgot about the dirty suit very fast...


	67. The dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I hab a request if u dont mind. So Spy is not only good at singing, but he dances pretty 'decently' (and by that I mean hes so 👌👌) and Sniper one day walks in on him dancing. It was pretty obvious he was there because the door creaks pretty loud, but Lucien decides to continue dancing and seduce him. It works, and he joins in on him. (Or they hab a 'smexy' time, you decide ^^)"

* * *

Spy exited his shower. It was autumn already and the leaves of the trees had turned to the colour of his natural melancholy. He put a shirt and a pair of trousers on top of his boxer shorts, that he liked to fit him quite tightly. Finally, he put on his bright red dressing gown on top of it all, and left it open.

Spy went to his jacket and its breast pocket. He found the cigarette case and elegantly flipped it open. 

"Ah, oui, j'avais oublié."

[Ah, yes, I had forgotten.]

He frowned for a second at the empty cigarette case. It wasn't exactly empty, there was a picture that would usually be hidden behind the cigarettes, the picture of the man Spy's heart was busy with. Oui, the old womanizer with more love conquests than stars in the night sky now held a man in his heart. And what a man… 

Spy smiled as he stared at the picture. 

He always wore a hat, that man, but Spy had seen his hair a few times. Wavy, brown with auburn reflections under the sun. That man also always wore yellow-tinted aviator glasses but how many times had Spy stared at his eyes beyond the glasses without him realising it. They were blue, lagoon blue, of a much darker shade than his own. His skin was rough and tanned by the years under the scorching sun of Australia. And his sideburns… Out of any kind of fashion but God how Spy wanted to lose his fingers there!

He sighed. Oui, he was in love with the Bushman who lived in a van, the solitary hunter with a rifle, Sniper. Spy smiled without realising it. He loved him but in secret. No one would understand it. Even he himself didn't, and it had taken him quite a long time before he realised that the reason why he always wanted to spend more time with him, the reason why he stared at him longer than the others, the reason why he felt that strange warm tickle inside of him when he saw or talked to him, was only and simply love. And not friendly love at that, it was romantic love. 

The kind that tortures you as much as it fulfills you, the sweetest of torments, the predicament that you throw yourself into willingly even though you know, and Spy better than anyone else did know. He knew that it could only be a secret. He knew it had to be kept so. He had a reputation to hold and he would try his best to. 

Ah, how easy it was to say those words just now. But each time Spy's eyes met with Sniper's, he would forget who he is and would give his reputation as a top intelligence agent away for even just a smile from Sniper. He had the sweetest of smiles, gentle, honest, from the heart. He wasn't faking or trying to give himself a certain style. Sniper was just who he was. There was no game, no lies. 

Honesty is a luxury that Spy could never afford, and some lies he had to carry with him like the Christ himself had to carry his cross. They would probably be the death of him, he knew it. No one takes up that kind of position without thinking about such consequences. Because they weren't risks, but consequences. A risk is something you suspect might happen. A consequence does happen. 

And as sure as Spy hated himself for the lies he had to bear on his shoulders, he knew it was romantic love he felt for Sniper. 

Spy raised his eyes to the clock and nodded to himself. Sniper had gone to town and kindly asked him if he needed anything. Spy had said that a few packs of cigarettes would be most appreciated if of course it didn't bother him in any way. Sniper had accepted to run that errand for him and thus Spy was waiting. Given the time, it wouldn't be too long before Sniper would come. 

Spy had invited Sniper multiple times in his suite. Most of the time, it was for a coffee, a cigarette and a chat. Sniper had never refused. Maybe the solitude of that van of his was too hard to bear? In any case, Spy was delighted every single time his friend would honour him with his presence and his company. They had made a habit of these coffee and cigarette "breaks"; so much that Spy had his door more or less open for Sniper. He had told him to just knock and enter straight away. Sniper was the only one with that privilege and Spy had allowed him in such a way in the mad hope that someday, Sniper would surprise him with his presence...

Spy walked to his living-room and put a disc on his record player. The piano, carried by the double-bass and soon a voice rose in the air, the singer's, yes, but above it, Spy's.

{To the reader: the song is "How do you keep the music playing" by Michel Legrand.}

_ "How do you keep the music playing? _

_ How do you make it last? _

_ How do you keep the song from fading  _

_ Too fast?" _

Spy started singing and the music wrapped him, in the bittersweet lyrics. Meanwhile Sniper was parking his van and had come to his friend's door. He heard the sound of music from the other side of the door and leaned in to hear better. Yes, yes it was music! And that voice, was it… Spy's? Sniper gave a knock. 

No answer. But his curiosity was burning him. It did sound like Spy was singing. Come on, that posh man? Singing? Nah… Unless…?

Sniper wrapped his fingers around the doorknob and twisted it before pushing slightly, just enough for his eyes to have a peek at what was happening in Spy's room.

_ "How do you lose yourself to someone? _

_ And never lose your way? _

_ How do you not run out of new things  _

_ To say?" _

Sniper's jaw dropped and his eyes snapped wide. He saw Spy singing and… dancing! Spy was walking elegantly, swirling with his open bright red gown flowing and spiralling after his thin and graceful silhouette and his hips slowly bending under the mellow rhythm.

Spy hated love songs, he usually found them too caricatural, and nonsensical. But they made sense now. They made so much sense that he felt the lyrics hit inside of him, and he was hallucinating, seeing himself sing those words to the one man who counted: Sniper.

_ "If we can be the best of lovers, _

_ And be the best of friends, _

_ If we can try with every day to make it better  _

_ As it grows. _

_ With any luck then, I suppose,  _

_ The music never ends." _

To Sniper's eye, Spy's silhouette was satin red because of the gown, with the golden stripes of the setting sun that shone through the shutters on the windows. Spy wrapped his arms around himself before opening them wide and singing, louder this time, letting his voice explode against the walls.

_ "And oh, the way I feel for you is now or never! _

_ The more I love, the more that I'm afraid! _

_ That in your eyes I may not see forever!" _

He had sung this for Sniper, even though he wasn't there and would never hear it. Spy had screwed his eyes shut, as one would to wish very hard on a star for something one deep down knows would never happen. 

The music stopped on the disc but Spy went on, with a very low voice, like a whisper.

_ "Sniper. _

_ The way I feel for you is now or never. _

_ The more I love, the more that I'm afraid, _

_ That in your eyes I may not see forever…" _

He turned to the door and opened his eyes. Sniper could see his eyelashes were wet. 

_ "Forever…"  _

Sniper pushed the door and entered without a word. He shut the door after him and silence fell in the room. They stared at each other. Spy was paralysed. He knew Sniper had heard him and watched him. Sniper was astonished. Spy's voice was something from another world. It could be strong and blow the walls around them away, but it could also whisper, wrapping forbidden words of love in delicate waves of air before sending them to diffuse and disappear in the atmosphere. 

But Sniper caught those waves of air, and unwrapped them to reveal the sweetest of secrets. 

"Put the disc again." He simply said and as ashamed as he was, Spy lowered his head and did as he was told. The piano rose in the air again as Spy's eyes slowly rose to meet Sniper. He took the few steps that separated them and opened his arms. 

"Show me how you do it." Sniper asked and Spy raised a curious eyebrow. He nonetheless obeyed, putting a palm against Sniper's and a hand on his shoulder. Sniper laced his hand around Spy's waist and the Frenchman might have turned to liquid on the spot. He was flustered, red beyond his ears and felt hot, way too hot. 

The music started and Sniper took a step. He led the dance and Spy couldn't believe his eyes. He was dancing with the man his heart was now racing for, his fingers sweated under the gloves and he wished he could throw his balaclava away. The song was quite mellow and slow, such that Sniper didn't have to move too much. It was perfect, he didn't want to anyway. All he wanted was to partake in Spy's dream. 

He said that the way he felt for him was now or never. Let it be now then. Let it be just now. Let it be right now. 

Sniper didn't know how to dance very well, but he knew how to hug. He pulled Spy from his waist to close the gap between them. As he lowered his head, he saw Spy evade his gaze, but he was pulling him so close that he had no choice but to lean his head on Sniper's shoulder. As soon as he did so, Spy closed his eyes and yielded to Sniper's moves completely. Sniper could have walked all the way to the Sahara if he had wanted, Spy would still be glued to him, his head on his chest, their stomach against each other's, his heart beating shamefully hard and almost bare against Sniper's chest...

Spy closed his eyes still wet from the tears he had shed as he wished that Sniper could have heard him sing. Well, some wishes get granted before you make them. Spy had his eyes closed and so, he focused on all the rest. Sniper's heart was beating almost right below his ear and he could smell his cologne. His cheap and strong cologne… 

Spy wanted to smile in satisfaction but it was all too much. He didn't know if he was dreaming or if it was happening for real. And as Sniper stopped moving, he realised the music had stopped. 

Sniper lowered his hand that was holding Spy's and let go of it. Spy's heart shattered like glass when he stopped feeling the warmth of his hand in his. 

But his eyes snapped wide when he felt Sniper's hand behind his back, between his shoulder blades, sliding up. Now it was behind his neck, on the balaclava, and it stopped there. Spy didn't dare move. He tried to enjoy it, try to remember it all before it stopped, because it would stop and whenever that would happen it would be too soon! 

Sniper bent his head down and put his lips on Spy's forehead, on the bare skin that wasn't hidden the balaclava. Spy's breath went in a staccato, cut by his louder-than-ever heartbeat and the force of the emotions he felt were like a punch to his guts. 

It was subtle but it was there. The kiss. Sniper had kissed Spy's forehead and the shorter man immediately raised his head with eyes wider than planets, glistening, with his eyelashes that betrayed how strongly he felt for Sniper. 

Sniper was smiling. 

"Didn't know you liked me, eh, Spook?" He gently said and Spy smiled. 

"Pardon." Spy answered in his mother tongue. 

"For what?" 

"I should have told you. I couldn't." 

"It's alright. I know it's hard." Sniper squeezed him tighter and bent down for his cheek to be above Spy's ear. He whispered.  _ "I love you too."  _

Spy dug his fingers in Sniper's sides and buried his head deep in his chest. He didn't want Sniper to see him cry. For the second time now.

  
  
  



	68. Sniper's first time - NSFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "[NSFW] I dunno if this is up to your preference but anyways: Spy has dated a few men before, but in Snipers case it was his first time to bottom. He gets nervous and anxious, and Snipes is there to help him."

* * *

"Good evening, Sniper."

The hunter was at Spy's door. 

"Come in, please." 

He stepped in and Spy closed the door but as soon as he did so, Sniper's hands were on his waist and his forehead against Spy's, who was now sandwiched between the door and Sniper's body. 

"Impatient?" Spy rose a malicious eyebrow. 

"You've been teasin' me the entire day. You think I didn't see you?" Sniper answered. 

"Oh non, I know you did see me,  _ mon amour.  _ I made sure that you did."

_ [My love.] _

Spy's hands went to Sniper's cheeks and he cupped his face. 

"You've been teasin' me the entire day but…" Sniper let go of Spy and went away from him. He sat down on the sofa, put his hat and glasses on the coffee table and put his head in his hands.

Spy frowned and joined him a few seconds after. 

"What is the matter?" 

"I know what you want, Spook… I know why you've played extra sexy today but…"

"You don't want  _ it? _ " Spy asked. "You are not in the mood for  _ it?" _

"N-no, I… I've just, argh, it's ridiculous, I should have stayed put in my van." 

"Non, please." Spy put his hand on Sniper's thigh and brushed it slowly. "Tell me what is bothering you." 

"I can't. You won't understand." 

Spy smiled. 

"Look at me,  _ mon chaton." _

_ [My kitten] _

Sniper removed his hands from his face. 

"You know me." Spy simply said. 

"Yeah, I do and that's why I think you won't get it." 

Spy raised an eyebrow and shook his head. 

"You didn't understand me, Sniper. I said  _ you _ of all people,  _ you know me,  _ the real me, the me behind the mask of arrogance. I know how to listen and help. I won't judge you, I love you too much for that. So just tell me, please." Spy removed his glove and put his naked hand on Sniper's distraught face. He sighed. 

"Right… I uh, I've never done it with a bloke before. I… You're new to me, everything about you is new and I know nothing about it. I feel bloody useless and ridiculous." 

"Nonsense." Spy answered as he scooted closer on the sofa and wrapped an arm around Sniper, leaning on his shoulder. 

"No, I swear. You're the first man I… feel like that for."

"I was not questioning the truth of your words."

Sniper turned his head and looked at Spy. 

"If you've ever made love before, it is no different if I'm a man or a woman. Oui, there are differences, but your intention deep down, here," Spy put his other hand on Sniper's chest. "It should be the same. Unless you don't want to and I respect that." 

Sniper lowered his head. 

"I feel like a little boy again. It's pathetic." 

"Non." 

"Yeah, it is." 

"Sniper."

"What?" 

"Do you love me?" 

"O'course I do. I'm mad about you. I saw you in the base today after work, the way you look at me, your eyes half-closed, and the way you licked you lips and bit them during dinner… Argh, Spook!"

"Sniper?" 

He raised his eyes to Spy's. 

"If you have made love with a few women before then, you shouldn't worry. And even if you didn't. I'd be happy to be your first." 

"You don't find it… weird?" 

"Non. I don't wonder about such things. I just love you and want you to enjoy yourself. I just hope that enjoying yourself also includes enjoying me because," Spy raised his eyes to Sniper's and stared. "I want you. Your rough skin, tanned by the sun, the roughness of your calloused hands, I want to feel it everywhere on my body… Please, Sniper," Spy cupped his lover's face and moved to sit on his lap, straddling his thighs. He pushed Sniper's back to lean back on the sofa completely. "Kiss me… I want you so much." 

"I love it when you beg me." Sniper's arms powerfully wrapped around Spy and he kissed him. If Spy let him proceed at his leisure at first, he took the control back when he  _ added the French to the kiss _ and Sniper groaned in pleasure. Spy fumbled with Sniper's collar until he took the hint and undid the first button, like the greenlight. Spy undid the others in a flash and removed his other glove. 

They removed their clothes, layer after layer until there was only their underwear between them.

"S-spook?" 

When their lips parted, a thread of wetness still connected them. 

"Oui?" 

"Can we go to your bed?" Sniper asked ans Spy smiled. He loved Sniper's naive side. 

"Of course, we can." He stepped away from his lover's lap and stood up, holding a hand out for Sniper to grab. But Sniper was in awe. He now saw Spy almost naked and what a sight. He had a lean body, the muscles one could feel but not really see that much apart from his arms and forearms. His thighs and legs were deliciously slim. Spy understood that Sniper was enjoying the view so he decided to give him more of it. He spun on his heels and walked away, making sure his hips would swing seductively. Sniper's heart jumped and he automatically sprang out of the sofa, following Spy. 

When he entered Spy's bedroom for the first time, he didn't pay attention to anything else but Spy himself who shut the door and playfully pushed Sniper on the bed until he was laying on his back. 

He kissed his lips, his ears, below them, his neck. Spy let his tongue trail around, explore all of the skin that was darker and harder than his. Meanwhile, Sniper's hands were exploring all of the skin they hadn't touched before, trying to map it all against his closed eyelids, all the muscles, the bones, the curves under his palms. But he kept it pretty prude and only let his hands roam on Spy's back and arms. 

It's only when Spy came lapping at his chest, nibbling at the darker spots there that Sniper dug his fingers in Spy's back, in surprise. 

"Oh my God that feels good…!"

Spy smiled and let his tongue massage the little bit of skin standing there, tugging at it gently between his teeth while Sniper moaned with an open mouth and squirmed on the bed. 

"Bugger, Spy… How d'you do it…?" 

Spy raised his head for a second to answer. 

"I am enjoying what I hear and see as much as you are enjoying those sensations." 

"I didn't even know I was sensitive there." Sniper said shyly. 

"Then you never really let someone make love to you." 

Hearing it out loud made Sniper blush. 

"It does not matter to me. Relax and enjoy yourself,  _ mon amour _ , I want your first night with me to me memorable."

"W-wait, Spy?" 

"Oui?" Spy was about to get back to it but Sniper had interrupted him.

"Are you gonna… y'know…? Are you really gonna do me?" 

Spy smiled. 

"If you don't want it, we can stop it here." 

"N-no, that's not what I meant…" 

Spy raised a curious eyebrow. 

"I mean… Please, if you're gonna do it, do it gently. I-I've never done it before."

Spy smiled and moved back up to kiss his lover's lips, massage his slick tongue against Sniper's. 

" _ Mon amour _ , I will not hurt nor force you. It is up to you if you want us to do it tonight or if you don't feel ready for it." 

"I just don't know if… Will it feel good for me too?" 

"If I do it right, oui. And I know how to do it right, you can trust me."

"You sure?" 

"Oui." Spy nodded. "I have been with quite a few men before. I never felt half as strongly as I do for you, but none of them complained." 

"Spook…"

"Oui, mon amour?" Spy was lying on top of Sniper and letting his fingers run on his scalp, through his hair.

"I heard people say it hurts." 

"It does if you don't do it in the right way. And some people like it that way. I am not one of them. I like it to feel good, I like it when you are satisfied as much as I am, maybe even more so than me. Sniper, again, if you are not feeling like it-"

"Do it." Sniper cut him abruptly and Spy's eyebrows jumped. 

"Are you sure?" 

"I-I want you to do it. I-I trust you, I love you and if there's anyone I can trust with my life, and I do it everyday, it's you." 

Spy almost had tears in his eyes. He gulped down hard. 

"Just tell me what I need to do and I'll do it." Sniper added. 

"Are you sure?" 

Sniper pulled Spy's head down and kissed him desperately. He licked his lips and pushed his tongue in, looking for Spy's and when he found it, he danced with it slowly, he took his time to enjoy himself and say in a twist of his tongue all the trust he had for Spy. 

When they broke the kiss, both were smiling. 

"I love you, Sniper." 

"Oh… You said it in English? You usually say it in French." 

"I love you." Spy repeated and kissed his lover more, this time, he slowly pressed his hips against Sniper and even through the fabric of their underwears, they felt it. Both wanted more. 

"Spook, please?"

"Oui?"

"Do it." 

"Fine." 

Spy removed his boxer shorts and Sniper's eyes snapped wide. Spy's member was really standing at attention… 

"Turn on your stomach." 

Sniper flipped on the bed. He then felt Spy's hands on the waistband of his boxer shorts and he pulled them down and away. 

"You are magnificent." 

"Y-you're gorgeous too." 

Spy smiled. He bent down and kissed Sniper's thighs, on the inside and heard Sniper moan, he even saw the goosebumps. He hadn't been touched there in forever and the feeling of Spy's wet lips on these regions were sending buzzes like pulses of electricity on his skin. Spy massaged Sniper's thighs and it took the Aussie a while to understand it but when he did, he was already very relaxed. 

Spy gently moved his lips up and lapped at the skin on his way. His hands slid up to finally meet with Sniper's backside. He gently caressed it and kissed, lapped and nibbled and Sniper discovered that he actually liked it. He liked the feeling of someone pleasuring him there… He moaned more. 

"Spook… I don't know how you do it…" 

"Sshhh… you just relax." 

Sniper opened his legs more without realising it and Spy's mouth got closer to his intimate entrance. He kissed it and around it, before biting the tender flesh around it. 

"Awh, yeah, that feels good…" Sniper dug his nails in the bedsheets. 

Spy noticed it and thought it was the right moment to let his tongue approach again, before flicking it right at Sniper's weakness.

"Awh-God!" 

He was enjoying it. So Spy spent more time licking and kneading Sniper's tender backside up to the point where Sniper was rolling his hips, grinding on the bed. Spy kissed him up along his back until he arrived behind his neck. Sniper turned his head and met with Spy's lips. They kissed for a short while, while Spy retrieved the bottle that was standing on the night table. 

"You are doing marvelously well, Sniper, I am proud of you." Spy kissed his cheek and Sniper sank deeper in the sheets because of that sweet attention. 

"Love you, Spook." 

"I love you too." 

When Spy opened the bottle, the noise of it made Sniper's head spin. 

"What's that?" 

"It will help." 

"Do we really need it?"

"Oui. You see, women's bodies are naturally, uh,  _ welcoming _ , to us because that's what they were designed to do. But for us, we have to work a bit to make our body as welcoming as theirs. It won't take long and the good news is that you will enjoy it." 

"How d'you know?" 

"You will see. Now, I need you to relax your entire lower body, make it as soft as jelly."

Sniper's heart started racing. 

"Do not worry mon amour, it will feel odd at first but if you are patient enough, it will feel good, I promise."

"Right, ok." 

"Are you ready? Is everything as relaxed as it can be?" 

"Y-yeah, I think so…" 

"Fine." 

Spy let his fingers knead Sniper's backside again before closing up to his entrance. He flicked his finger next to it and heard Sniper hiss. 

"Relax, I love you and you will feel so good you will want me to never stop… Trust me,  _ mon amour.  _ And if you don't, I will stop, I promise. I just need a few minutes."

Sniper tried to relax again and trust Spy blindly for a moment. He exhaled and closed his eyes. Spy waited a bit and pushed a knuckle in slowly, as he licked around it. 

"Very good, as I said, it will feel strange at first, but trust me as much as you are right now, you will be rewarded for it." 

The second knuckle was it now and Sniper could feel Spy's finger working inside him. 

"Breathe slowly, you see? It doesn't hurt at all. Continue relaxing, you are doing great, Sniper." 

The entire finger was in now and pushing the walls of Sniper's intimacy open slowly. 

"I need to withdraw for a second, I will do it very slowly… There we go… See? That was easy." 

"Is that it?" Sniper asked. 

"Non, I need to do more." Spy slicked up his fingers more. "Now, I will do the same thing. Here we go." 

He pushed his finger in. First knuckle, second one, and entire finger. 

"See? Much easier and a bit less strange." 

Sniper still didn't feel particularly good about it. 

"Now, we have to be a bit more ambitious, I will go in steps again, you just continue to breathe slowly and focus on the slowness of my movements. Don't contract anything down there." 

Sniper felt the tip of Spy's middle finger breach inside him. 

"There we are, you are doing very well." 

The second knuckle was in and Sniper felt the difference in girth quite well. When the entire finger was in, Spy smiled. He bent down and kissed Sniper's backside. 

"I am proud of you. Not everyone is able to take in as much as you are. I love you, Sniper." 

"Yeah, well, still can't feel anythin' good about it. It's just weird."

"Does it hurt?" 

"Nah, it's just weird, but nothing good yet." 

"I will come to it just now." 

Sniper had felt Spy's fingers working inside him for a while now. He frowned when he felt them curl slightly and come and go. 

"Spook, what are-ah?!"

Sniper hips jolted involuntarily. 

"What the hell was that? Oh! Spook, I don't know how you're doin' it but-argh! Stop, please, just a second."

Spy stopped and chuckled. 

"I think I have found it." 

"What was that?" Sniper repeated. 

"An asset for the both of us, and the reason why people like this whole thing so much." 

"I didn't know I was sensitive  _ inside of me?" _

"We all are, to a certain extent." 

"Spook?" 

"Oui?"

"More, please." 

Spy smiled. 

"Do you mind if I remove my fingers and do it properly?" 

Sniper's eyes snapped wide. That was it. He was about to be… Well, with Spy.

"N-No, go ahead."

"We'll both feel it that way." 

Spy poured some of the bottle's content on his member that had been standing hard and swollen. 

"It will feel as weird as before, do not worry, just relax."

"Okay…"

Spy approached the tip of his length and slowly pushed it in. 

"Breathe slowly, relax, I will do it in steps too. If it's too much, you tell me and I'll stop." 

But Sniper didn't want it to stop. He wanted to have the proper experience,  _ Spy entirely inside of him. _ Spy continued pushing himself, little by little, taking breaks every so often.

"Oh mon Dieu… You are amazing Sniper… Awh-you feel, amazing… Are you alright? Is it hurting?" 

"No, it's just funny, go on, continue."

"I can't." Spy answered and Sniper frowned. 

"Why?" 

"I'm entirely inside of you." Spy laid down on Sniper's back and moaned as he enjoyed the warmth and the tightness. "Mon Dieu, you feel amazing…" 

Sniper opened his legs a bit more. 

"Now I will do it very slowly, do not worry, just tell me if it hurts." 

Sniper nodded against the pillow and he felt Spy's hips started rolling. 

"Oorh… My God…" Spy was moaning like Sniper never heard him before. It was quite higher in pitch than his own moans but clearly, he was enjoying himself. 

Spy slid a hand between the mattress and Sniper's stomach to find his masculinity. He wrapped his fingers around it and stroked. 

"Oh, God, Spook… Argh…" 

"It feels good, non?"

"God, oh…" 

They moaned until Sniper's hips jumped again. 

"Ah! Bugger! You found it again!" 

"Perfect." 

Spy picked up the pace, making sure to hit that same spot again and again. Sniper's groans were loud and Spy felt him drip with pleasure in his hand. That was it now, they were in a fog of sweat, heat and lust as both rolled their hips. Spy is Sniper's, and Sniper's in Spy's hand. 

"Sniper… You are extraordinary… Never have I been able to do that much on a first time… Are you sure you never did this before…?"

"N-never, I'd remember it, trust me, God it feels bloody good - argh - more, Spy, more, I'm close…"

"So am I, you're perfect… Argh…"

And after a few more thrusts both them reached the highest of highs, their bodies shuddering, their lips connected but moaning louder than before. 

Spy let himself completely collapse on Sniper's back. His body was spent, fuming still and he was panting to catch his breath. 

"Mon Dieu… Sniper…" 

"M-Mundy. Name's Mundy." 

Spy slowly withdrew from Sniper and made him roll to face him. He kissed him. It was sloppy, tired and not as precise as it was before but it gave it that much charm. 

"Mundy? Beautiful name… Beautiful name for the gorgeous man who had his first time with me." 

"Oi, it wasn't my first time. It was my first time with a man." 

"Was it not your first time? Did it not feel like it?" 

And Sniper now understood what Spy meant. It was his first time yielding completely, making love as blindly as he could and, to be truly honest, it was the first time he enjoyed it that much. But he wasn't going to admit it, nah, not that easily!

"It'll be my first time when I actually see the bloke buggerin' me." 

"Ah." Spy sat up on the bed and yanked his balaclava off, his salt and pepper hair flowing down his face. "What about now?" 

"Bloody hell… You really  _ are _ gorgeous…"

"And you had doubts? I am offended." 

"C'mere, you Spook." Sniper wrapped his arms around the grumpy Spy who let himself fall on Mundy's chest. 

"Lucien." He answered. "When we're alone, I am Lucien." 

"Weird name." 

"Hey!" 

Sniper giggled and kissed Lucien's brow. 

"Sounds like the name of a pastry to me." 

"You are welcome to taste it anytime." Lucien answered, nesting his head under Mundy's jaw before their conversation drifted away, between the pecks and kisses, the compliments and sweet nothings.


	69. The freezing van

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hi, another anon request :3 Spy has a habit of checkin in on Sniper in secret (mainly coz people will think he's a creep) One night he checks up on him in his van and sees him shivering in the cold, asleep. He brings a blanket for him and accidentally wakes him up. Sniper saw that Spy was cold as well (since he walked to and from the base), and they cuddle up for the night."

* * *

"There we go pardners, some soup for dinner!" Engie quipped as he put the pot on the table. 

"Soup?! Again?!" Scout complained. 

"Is good for cold." Heavy answered. 

"Yeah, some frightful weather we're having now. Soup's the best way to keep a bit of warmth." Engie added. 

All the mercenaries were around the table. All, except for Spy and Sniper but as soon as Engie finished his sentence, Spy entered. 

"Gentlemen." His eyes went to the chair opposite his on the table and he realised that Sniper was missing. "Where is Sniper?" 

"In his van I guess?" Demo answered. 

"Yeah, waitin' for ya to read him a bedtime story and oooh…!" Scout stuck his index fingers and twisted them in a mocking way. Spy answered with a roll of his eyes and left the kitchen. 

He put on his coat and wrapped a scarf around his neck and face before exiting the base. He crossed the snow, his feet sinking to about half of his legs and reached Sniper's van. He knocked. 

"Who's that?" 

"It's me, dinner is served."

Sniper opened the door and Spy slipped in quickly. 

"What the hell are you doin' here? It's bloody freezin'!"

"I told you. Dinner is served." Spy answered.

"I know! But why did you come here?" 

Spy put his hands on his lover's chest. 

"Because I can't eat without you." 

Sniper smiled and his shoulders relaxed. He put his hands on Spy's waist. 

"Yeah, you can."

"Non." 

"Yeah." 

"Non, I can't." Spy leaned his head on Sniper's chest, who chuckled. 

"You're so clingy…" 

"Oui, maybe, but you love it too."

"Nah."

"Oui."

"Nah."

Spy raised his head. 

"Of course you do."

Sniper bent down and took his lover by his lips. 

"Yeah, I might." 

Spy freed himself from his lover's embrace and helped him put his coat and scarf on. He took Sniper's hat and put it on his own head. 

"Your van is freezing,  _ mon chaton." _ He said as he exited it.

_ [My kitten] _

Sniper jumped down and landed in the snow with a thud. 

"Yeah, especially when the sun's out." He locked his van's backdoor and they went back to the base. On their way back, Sniper took his hat from Spy's head. 

In a minute, they were both sitting at the kitchen's table and enjoying Engie's soup. 

"Sorry for bein' late, mate." 

"No problem." Engie answered. 

"I think the heating in my van isn't working properly so I was testin' a few things." 

"D'you want me to have a look at it? I can probably fix it." 

"Yeah, that'd be nice." 

"Alrighty then. The only thing is that it's not super practical at night. D'you mind if I get to it tomorrow? I can do it first thing in the morning." 

"Yeah, that's perfect, mate, thanks." 

Engie nodded to his friend. 

"So, Snipes, gonna sleep with fancypants tonight, in his suit?" Scout wiggled his eyebrows.

"It's  _ suite _ , you mongrel, and next time you make a joke like that you'll find a two and a half inch bullet between yer eyes."

"And possibly a rusty blade not far from your spine." Spy added.

"Rusty?! Really?!"

"It would be disrespectful to waste a good one on you, Scout." 

"Alright, alright… Can't have any fun with you guys…"

Sniper and Spy exchanged a conniving smile. 

Dinner soon finished and all the mercenaries emptied the kitchen. 

"Are you sure you don't want to sleep in my suite tonight?" 

"N-nah, it's really nice of you but nah. I'll survive another night in my van." 

Spy raised his eyebrows as if to ask again. 

"Yeah, I'm sure, no need to look at me like that." 

"Fine, I won't insist." Spy smiled sweetly. "You have a good night then. Try not to freeze, I would hate to go and ask Pyro to help me get you defrosted tomorrow morning."

Sniper bent to Spy's ear.

_ "You don't anyone to make me hot, darl'."  _

"I hope so!" He proudly answered and as the kitchen was empty, they exchanged a quick peck. 

"G'night, love." 

"To you too,  _ mon amour." _

_ [My love.] _

They parted ways. One left the base to his van while the other went to his suite. 

Spy took a shower and listened to some tunes on the radio as he read his magazine. He could hear the wind howling outside and he frowned, biting his lip. 

He was sitting here in front of a fire, surrounded by heaters that worked while Sniper was no doubt freezing. Non. It was unfair and disgusted him. If Sniper didn't want to come to him, Spy would go to him. 

He went to his bedroom and folded his warm winter duvet. He found a plastic bag large enough to put the duvet in. Spy looked around and saw a hot water bottle. He filled the kettle and in a minute, it was filled up and as hot as it could be. 

_ "Très bien."  _

_ [Very well.] _

He took out it in the bag and exited his suite. He listened carefully but couldn't hear much. The TV was still on in the living-room, which meant that some of the mercenaries were still there, asleep no doubt. Spy passed through the corridor as silently as a shadow and exited the base. He crossed the snowy path to Sniper's van and took a peek through one of the windows. He saw Sniper rolled in his bed under his duvet, shaking out of the cold. 

_ Mon amour…  _

_ [My love…] _

Spy went to the van's backdoor and picked the lock easily before slipping in. Sniper was indeed asleep. Spy took the duvet he had brought and removed his shoes and coat. Underneath it all, he was wearing some warm pyjamas. He climbed up Sniper's bed and covered him with the duvet, which woke him up. 

"W-what? Spook? What are you doin' here?"

"I cannot sleep."

"Why?"

"Because I know you are freezing. I can't bear it." Spy slid down the ladder to Sniper's bed and retrieved the hot water bottle. He placed it near Sniper's feet, under the cover before climbing up and joining his lover. 

"Why are you doing all this?"

"Because I love you, you stubborn idiot. If you don't want to sleep in my suite, I shall come here and sleep with you."

Spy scooted closer to Sniper and like a reflex, they hugged each other and moaned happily. Spy used Sniper's shoulder as a pillow. 

"I love you, Spook. Thanks for everything."

"Bah, I just couldn't stand it. Me, alone in my room, cosy and warm, while your teeth were chattering here. Non, this is no way to be." Spy snuggled as close as he could be to Sniper and moaned. "Why didn't want to come and sleep with me?" 

"This is the reason why, love."

"What?" 

"You being all close to me, in my arms, in the middle of the night, in the blizzard."

"Ooh, listen to you being a poet now,  _ mon chaton." _

_ [My kitten] _

"Well, that's your fault. You made your kitten softer than he ever has been." 

Spy smiled. 

"Is that a complaint?" He asked. 

"Nah, I think I like the way it is, the way we are. I never was like that." 

"What do you mean?"

"I'd never cuddle up with people. I thought I didn't like physical contact, y'know. But you made me realise it's the other way around. I… I love it when I can touch you, feel you against me. And… Well, I love it when you touch me too. It's like I missed someone touching me and when you of all people do it, it's beautiful. I feel hot, fuzzy and -"

"I think they call it being  _ 'touch-starved'  _ in English,  _ mon chaton."  _

_ [My kitten] _

"Yeah, might be." Sniper covered his lover better with the duvet and left a kiss on his head. 

"From tomorrow and until winter ends, you shall sleep with me, if you want it." 

"Course I do. Thanks, love." 

"It is only normal." 

Both were talking with their eyes closed. Their body warmth as well as the hot water bottle and the duvet were enough to fall asleep. 

The next morning, the blizzard calmed down slightly and a knock on a van's door woke one of the lovebirds up. He slid down the ladder and opened the door, still wrapped in his shirt with the target symbol on the shoulder. 

"Hey pardner, I - oops, sorry Spy, I wanted to come and check on the van's heating system for Sniper. A-am I interruptin' anything? Should I come back later?" 

"If you don't mind. I think I am compensating for the lack of heating well enough…"

Engie nodded, his face as red as a brick, and headed back to the base. Behind his back, Spy heard Sniper waking up. 

"Oh, hey, love. What are you doin' at the door?" 

"Engie just came to fix the heating." 

"Ah bugger I forgot about that… I slept too well." 

"You are welcome." Spy answered as he slid back on Sniper's bed. 

"You're wearin' my shirt?" 

"It's the only thing I found to put on, on top of my tanktop." 

"You slept in your tanktop?! Didn't you freeze with this cold?"

"Not when I'm in the warmest arms,  _ mon chaton." _

_ [My kitten] _

Their lips met with a smile. 

"Will Engie come back?" 

"Oui, but I would bet we have an hour in front of us, if not more." 

"Good…" Sniper answered and pulled Spy closer to him. They rolled under the duvet, the lapping sound of their kisses diffusing in the van, the duvet and bed sheets swooshing under their movements. 


	70. Paris, 1953

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Another one hehe, it's ok to take time 😅 Dell made some time traveling machine then he called Mundy to try it, Mundy decide to go back in in the day 1942 in France where Lucien was in a 20s-30years old. Mundy tried to talk the young Lucien 😁"

* * *

"You sure it works?" Sniper scratched his brow.

"Yeah." Engie answered confidently.

"And there's no danger?"

"Yeah, I saw Edison himself yesterday and Medic had a check-up on me. Nothing's wrong."

Sniper and Engineer were in the Texan's garage, in front of a tall box that looked like an old time telephone booth.

"So, where d'you wanna go? Or rather, when and where?" Engie asked with a proud smile. That telephone box was a time machine. 

Sniper frowned and tilted his head thinking hard. He could go back a decade or so, even a few decades, to see his parents again. Hell, he could go back and see real dinosaurs if he wanted to!

"Paris, 1953." Was his answer. Engie raised an eyebrow. 

"You sure?" 

"Yeah, Christmas day, wherever the French Ministry of Defense is." 

"Why?"

Sniper looked away. 

"There's a monument I want to see."

Engie half guessed where it was all going. 

"Alrighty then, get in, when you hear a beep, count to twenty and then open the door. Wherever you end up with that machine, you need to remember where it was, cause that's your only ticket back." 

"Anything I shouldn't do?" Sniper asked. 

"Like what?" Engie chuckled. 

"I don't know, to not change the past and stuff like that?" 

"Nah, it's fine. Unless you kill someone… Yeah, don't get your hands on a rifle and kill someone. And don't meet yourself. God knows what would happen… I guess that should do." 

"Right, kill no one and don't see myself, got it." Sniper repeated to himself and Engie opened the door for him to jump in. 

"And how long do I have?" Sniper asked. 

"Here, take this watch."

"Looks like Spy's." 

"Yeah, but it doesn't just turn you invisible. Press the button on the side three times and I'll know you're back in the machine and ready to make it back."

"Okay, I think I got it." Sniper took the watch and put it on. Then he stepped in the machine. Oddly enough, it looked slightly bigger on the inside than what it seemed at first. There wasn't much inside, its walls were all blue, the ceiling was white and there was a chair and a coat hanger. Sniper removed his hat and sleeveless jacket to put himself at ease before sitting on the chair. Engie gave him a smile and a thumbs up before shutting the door. Soon, Sniper heard a beep. 

"Right, here we go. One, two, three, four, five…"

When he reached twenty, he stood up and went to the door again. 

"Paris, 1953. He should be about thirty-odd years old now." 

Mundy put his hand on the door handle and pulled on it a bit. The door creaked slightly and he took a peek. Wherever he had landed was very dark. After making sure there was no one around he got out. 

"Ouch!" 

He bumped on something and heard wooden things tumble and fall on the floor. 

"Where the hell am I…?" 

He walked trying to grope for his way to any source of light while his back was hunched slightly. Sniper soon found the wall in front of him. His hands roamed on it until -

"Ah! Gotcha!" He flipped the switch and the lightbulb above his head lit up. 

"What the…? Engie, I think you got it wrong, mate…" He said, as if Englie could hear him. He realised he had landed in a broom closet. The wooden clinking sounds he had heard were the broomsticks falling to the floor. 

"Let's see." He pushed the door and looked left and right. "Bloody hell, he might have got it right after all." 

The walls were very tall and wooden. Portraits and oil paintings were hung there with elegant lamps with golden handles, that were decorated with tinsel and Christmas ornaments. The floor was wooden as well and as he looked at the ceiling, Sniper saw intricate white mouldings. 

"That's one hell of a posh building." Sniper exited the broom closet and walked around. His heels resonated on the wooden floor. Soon, he could hear the distant noise of incomprehensible chattering. 

"Where are you all…?" He followed the noises until he could see that he clearly was standing somewhere he shouldn't be. All the guests to the Christmas party were at the end of the corridor he was walking through. 

" _Monsieur?_ " 

[Sir?]

A voice made him freeze. He turned and faced a waiter elegantly dressed in black and white. 

"Aucun invité n'est autorisé ici." 

_Bloody hell they speak real French…_ Sniper thought. He blushed.

"Uh, you speak English?" 

"Yes, I was saying that no guests were allowed here." The waiter answered with an accent that made Spy look like he had none. 

"Ah, well, I-I uh… I was watching the paintings and I got carried away, my bad, really. Could you show me where the rest of the guests are? I'm afraid I got lost a bit." 

"But of course, pray follow me." 

Mundy stayed on the waiter's heels and soon entered a wide room with possibly more than a hundred people impeccably dressed, the sound of their chats rising in the air. There was a stage with some musicians playing in the background too, adding to the audible and visible Christmas atmosphere.

"There you are, Sir."

"Ah, thanks." 

Mundy looked at his attire and rolled his eyes. His Mann Co. red polo shirt and brown trousers wouldn't do. He looked right and left and quickly found the restroom. He headed there and slipped in. 

Sniper saw a man who happened to be roughly his height and build. He seemed already quite drunk judging by the way he struggled to maintain his balance, trying to redo his bowtie. Mundy made sure there was no one else in the cubicles before acting. 

" _Bonjour."_ He tried his best to hide his accent but could almost hear Spy laugh at him for it… 

_"Bonsoir."_ The man answered before squinting at his reflection on the mirror again.

_[Good evening]_

Mundy went to the restroom's main door and looked through the window. No one was immediately coming. He went for the poor drunk man trying to adjust his bowtie and knocked him unconscious before dragging him to one of the cubicles. He then swapped their clothes. Of course he kept his aviator glasses. 

When he emerged from the restroom again, he was wearing a black suit and bowtie with a white shirt. He even had kept the handkerchief in the jacket pocket. Now he could face it all and look for the man he had gone through all that trouble for. 

The main room with the guests was swarming with people. Men dressed sharp and ladies wearing colourful and elegant - albeit for him quite old-fashioned - dresses. 

"Right, now, time to hunt for him… Where are you?" He said to himself as he walked through people. He didn't know where to find him but Sniper knew he was wearing a black suit and tie… which didn't help at all because that was the case for most if not all of the male guests. 

"Argh, bugger, how the hell am I going to find you… If you were a panther, I'd know where to start but - oh, wait… You're a panther, you are a panther! I just need to hunt the same thing as you do and I'll find you. Pff, what the hell d'you hunt for…?"

Mundy pondered for a minute when he heard a group of women laugh on his right. He looked there and smiled to himself. 

"Of course, sheilas!" 

He headed in their direction and stopped walking when his eyes fell on a man, about a foot shorter than him, in a black suit and tie, a cigarette between his lips and his ice blue, almost grey eyes shining like he had rarely seen them before. His pitch black, silk hair was elegantly combed back except for a rebel front tuft that elegantly fell between his eyes. 

Mundy smiled. He had found him. He had found young Spy!

He stayed there and watched him from a safe distance, with half-lidded eyes and a dreamy smile on his lips. A waiter passed by and offered him some drinks but Mundy didn't even see him. All he could see was that elegant man, being what defined him best, the best womanizer on the face of Earth. 

Sometimes, a man would come and take a lady away from him but the man with the piercing eyes would wink at her and even if Mundy wasn't the one that this wink was destined to, he would blush.

"Almost fifteen years before and you still can't make the first step, hm?" 

Mundy's blood froze. He recognised the suave voice with the French accent. But how? He had his eyes on Spy right now, it couldn't be him talking and at the same time being five metres away, busy seducing any woman who happened to meet his gaze!

Mundy felt a hand on his shoulder and turned his head. 

"What the hell are you doin' here?!" 

Spy, the real one - well, the old one - was standing next to him as elegantly dressed as his younger self. 

"I could ask you the same question, you _early stalker."_

"Pff…" Mundy chuckled. 

"So, what are you up to, Sniper? And what is that suit? Does it belong to the unconscious man in the restroom?"

"Well…" 

"Next time, knock out someone who actually is the same size as you."

"What are you talkin' about?" Sniper looked down at himself. "It's my size!"

" _Mon Dieu,_ the keenest and quickest eyes I have seen and yet you cannot spot a man that is built like you…" 

[My God]

"Oi, I could, I just didn't have much choice, alright?"

"Of course, blame it on fate." 

They both chuckled at their own banter. 

"But you didn't tell me," Spy turned his piercing eyes to his friend. "What brings the man in a van in Paris in the year of our Lord 1953, hm?"

"I don't know really… I just… I wanted to see it with my own eyes."

"The photograph I showed you wasn't enough?"

"N-no, that's not what I meant. I mean… It's better with colours, and for real." 

Spy smiled and handed him a glass of champagne, which he gladly accepted. But Sniper's eyes never left Spy, the young one.

"What do you see?"

"I… The picture didn't lie, you really looked like that."

Spy raised a confused eyebrow.

"Did you think I tampered with the picture to look different?"

"N-no, I… Argh, I can't speak sometimes, I just sound stupid."

Spy smirked. He knew why Sniper was losing his words. 

"Ah, look at me… Black hair, no lines on my face yet, and as proud as a peacock."

"Not really different from you now, eh." 

"Very poor lie." Spy snickered. 

"Not for the proud bit." Sniper teased. 

"Tsk…" 

They chuckled and tipped their glasses before taking a sip. 

"Ah, the champagne from the Ministry's receptions…"

"Takes you back, eh?" Sniper asked.

"You have no idea." Spy answered, a bittersweet smile on his lips. "But tell me."

"What?" 

"Why here and now?" Spy asked. "You could have chosen any destination, any time. You could have seen wonderful things, met legendary people, and yet, you chose Paris in the winter of the year 1953."

Sniper stared at the champagne glass in his hand. 

"It's that picture you showed me the other day when we were chattin'."

"What about it?" 

"I don't know… It stayed glued to my head and I kept wondering."

"What would it look like with colours?" Spy asked. 

"Yeah, well, that and, uh… I wanted to know how you were before. If you've always been like that." 

"Like what?" 

"Like the spooky bastard you are, obviously!" 

They chuckled. 

"Well, why don't you go and see for yourself?" Spy suggested. "Go on then, go and talk to me."

"W-what should I say?" 

"This is entirely up to you, but I cannot talk to myself so go ahead, I will just stay here and hope I can remember the content of that conversation, as I cannot partake in it or watch it from close enough.

"B-but I don't know what to say…"

"Do it like I would." Spy smirked. "Improvise."

"Thanks for the shit advice, eh." 

"Fine, then a true piece of advice from me to you, to go and talk to the younger me - _Mon Dieu_ , how strange this sounds - is go and seduce me."

"What?!" 

Spy couldn't hold back his giggle.

"Stop messin' with me."

"That look on your face was worth it, _mon ami."_

_[My friend.]_

"Screw you, Spook."

Spy laughed further. Mundy took a deep breath and wiped his sweaty hands on his thighs. 

"R-right, I'll try something."

Spy smiled maliciously and followed Sniper with his eyes. When he saw Mundy started speaking, he clicked on his watch and turned invisible before getting closer. He wasn't going to miss Sniper taking the first step on him for anything in the world. Also, now that he thought about it, he had just acted like the wingman to… _his younger self?_

"H-hey there." Mundy said, his back slightly hunched and his cheeks pink already.

" _Bonsoir."_ The younger Spy turned to face him.

_[Good evening.]_

Spy's eyes had always been that impressive then, eh?

"Gosh, even your voice is the same…"

The Frenchman raised an eyebrow. 

"The same as what?" 

"And the accent! Bloody hell, it's really you!" 

"Do I know you, perhaps?" 

"Ah, uh, n-not yet."

"Obviously." The younger Spy answered. "What is your name?"

"Mundy, you?" 

"Lucien." 

"Really? Is that your name? Not one of those Jean-Pierre or other names like a train with loads of carts?"

The man with the black hair chuckled and Mundy saw his pearly white teeth.

"Oui, I can assure you that Lucien is my name. Does it not suit me?" He asked jokingly.

"Yeah, nah, sorry, I'm just a bit… confused." Mundy answered.

"I can see that." 

Mundy looked around. Only a few ladies were orbiting around Lucien now but it was still too much for him and he didn't seem comfortable talking in front of them. 

"D'you… D'you mind if we go somewhere a bit more calm?"

Lucien looked around him and smiled. There was something he liked about the strange man with the sideburns talking to him, something strangely attractive, _or attractively strange._

"Follow me." 

Mundy nodded and after crossing the room and taking some stairs, they found an empty smoking room. 

"Do you smoke?" 

"Sometimes." 

"Here," Lucien flipped his cigarette case open, "Help yourself."

"Good Lord, even the case is the same… and the cigs too…!" Mundy said as he took a cigarette. 

Lucien smiled and lit them both before they took a seat. 

"You seem to compare me to someone else a lot." 

"Yeah, well, there's this bloke I know." Mundy started. "He uh… He looks like you quite a bit. He's just a bit older." 

"Mundy?" 

Mundy's heart skipped a beat. Hearing his name uttered by that man, in that voice, that accent… It was surreal. 

"Yeah?" 

"Who are you? No doubt you know me, but I don't think I have ever seen you before."

"Y-yeah, well, uhm…" Mundy scratched the back of his head.

"And you clearly are not on the guest list either. I know every single one of the guests today. None of them are called Mundy. Besides, you clearly didn't make much effort to prepare for this reception."

Mundy's jaw dropped and Lucien puffed on his cigarette.

"H-how d'you know?" 

"Your beard resembles more a messy stubble than anything else. It is clearly not taken care of, your hair either. And this suit…" Lucien's eyes were as piercing as Spy's. "You have never worn a proper suit before. You didn't adjust the bowtie or the cuffs properly and I think it is slightly too large for you, even though the fashion nowadays leans towards larger cuts, this is too much."

"Bloody hell, it's really you…" Mundy muttered under his breath. 

"If you are talking about the man who is the best intelligence agent France has ever seen, _oui, c'est moi."_

_[Yes, it is me.]_

Lucien put a proud hand on his chest and bowed his head with the most smug grin.

"And still arrogant at that!" 

"Still?" 

"Yeah, well, uh… Nevermind." 

"But please, tell me." Lucien insisted. 

"What?" 

"Who are you?" Lucien repeated. 

"You don't wanna know how a bloke like me ended up in the French Ministry of Defense's Christmas party?"

"I'll find it out soon enough." Lucien said confidently. "Besides, you don't seem to be a threat."

"Nah, I'm not."

"If you didn't come here to threaten the security of my country, then it is none of my concern. I am more intrigued by who you really are."

"I'm…" Mundy closed his eyes for a minute, just to gather his thoughts. "You don't know it but uh… You've changed my life. You've changed my life, my days and my nights."

Lucien frowned. 

"You've… Argh… Remember I told you you look like someone I know?"

Lucien chuckled. 

"You never really stopped saying so." 

"Yeah, sorry, it's just… Anyway, that bloke who really looks like you… He uh… You taught him everything and if he is my friend now, it's because of you. Bloody hell, I hope he is my friend. I see him like a friend but…"

Lucien puffed on his cigarette and listened carefully. Mundy shook his head as if to shoo away his thoughts.

"Anyway, he's just a friend, eh. But, uh…"

"You clearly have fallen for him." Lucien calmly said and Mundy bit his lip in embarrassment. "There is no shame to have."

"How d'you know?" Mundy asked. "How d'you know I…"

"It's the way you can't find your words. And trust me, I have seen more people possessed by love than my age lets you guess." 

Mundy rolled up his eyes. 

_Oh I know…_ He thought. 

"But please, come back to the tale you were telling me." 

"Yeah, well, that bloke, he, uh… I really like him b-but he doesn't know it, nah."

"Can't you tell him?"

"No! Oh God, no… He's a magnet for sheilas, that bloke, a bit like you."

Lucien smiled proudly.

"That doesn't automatically prevent him from appreciating the company of men." He answered. 

"You think so?" 

"But of course. Personally, I don't mind much. Well, to be nearer the truth, I should say that I couldn't care less. Man, woman… Bah, same difference as you say in English." 

Mundy opened wide eyes. 

"Y-you like blokes?" 

"I can, oui." 

"Oh my God…" Mundy slapped his forehead. 

"What does it have to do with me, though?" Lucien asked. 

"Everything! I mean, no, I mean… See, I know the ladies run after you like bees after honey, I saw them back there. So I'm thinking that it's maybe the same for my friend, eh?" 

"Maybe, but to each their own." 

"C-can I ask you something?" Mundy hesitantly asked. 

"You just did." Lucien calmly answered. "But go ahead."

"If I told you that uh, ahem, somewhere, or sometime, you'd meet an Aussie and uh… He'd be about my height, he wouldn't have a clue how to dress up or do anything fancy, and uh… H-he'd be a hunter, he'd live in a van, going through the desert and hunting."

"Hunting what?" 

"Depends, he'd take contracts. Most of the time it's just pest control but occasionally, he'd take down a man… N-not because he wants to but because he's just good with a rifle and… And some people you can't let live like… Like some of the Nazis you caught." 

Lucien's eyebrows jumped.

"Hm, I see." 

"What would you think of that man?" Mundy asked, fumbling with his fingers on the dark brown leather armchair.

Lucien smirked. 

"I would want to know him." Mundy's eyebrows jumped. "I've always had a weakness for the exotic and foreign. An Australian man, you say? That sounds exciting. Besides, if he is as shy and clumsy as you are, then I would definitely go and talk to him."

"Really?" 

"Oui. You seem to doubt my words a lot, but I am sincere." Lucien smiled. "What profit would I get to not be honest?"

"Y-yeah, I guess you're right." 

"May I ask, this man your heart is worried about, he is here, in this reception, non?" 

"S-sort of, yeah." Mundy frowned. "But how did you guess?"

Lucien gave him that trademarked smile of his, the one where his eyes read him as if he was naked.

"For a man as shy as you seem to be, to manage to burst in a reception such as this, with a suit that you _'borrowed'_ and talking to a stranger like me, well, it's either a lot of money that you are after, or something utterly priceless." 

Mundy was flabbergasted. Spy's mind had always been that sharp then, it was insane. 

"And when I say something utterly priceless, I mean someone that you attached yourself so deeply that you cannot possibly think of anyone else. You, Monsieur Mundy, are quite the romantic type, despite the lack of self-care. Oui, romantic and very faithful."

"How the hell can you guess all that?" 

"It is no guess. As I said, despite your timid personality, you didn't hesitate to breach these extremely protected walls for just a glimpse maybe, of the man your heart is now racing for. That is for the romantic side. The faithful one I get from your glasses."

"My glasses?" 

"You went to the trouble of stealing this suit from someone, but you insist on wearing your own glasses, which could not match less well with the whole attire. Shy and romantic makes you as faithful in love as you are to your glasses." Lucien crushed his cigarette butt in the ashtray as a professor would end the demonstration of a mathematical theorem.

"Bloody hell…" 

"Do I know him?" Lucien asked.

"Who?" 

"The man you love."

"Yeah… Yeah you know him very well actually."

"May I know who it is?" 

"N-nah, not yet… Not in the next fifteen-odd years, heh…" Mundy chuckled slightly. "Maybe one day I'll tell you."

"Should I then wait for a decade and a half?" 

"I'm afraid so." Mundy answered smiling. 

"I am way too impatient for that." 

"Oh I know…" 

"And if I really am like that friend of yours, then he surely knows that you love him." 

Mundy's smile vanished. 

"What?" 

"Mundy, you are atrociously easy to read."

"So you know who-?"

"Oui." Lucien stood up and went to the impressive dark wooden door. He looked back at Mundy who had lowered his head and was staring at his boots. They didn't match with the black suit trousers. "Mundy?" 

He raised his head. 

"See you in fifteen years." And Lucien exited the room, leaving Mundy alone. He looked down at his boots again, trying to understand what he should take from that conversation. 

"So, how did you find me?" 

Mundy got startled and put a hand on his chest as a silhouette emerged from a thin cloud.

"Bloody hell, Spook! I thought you were still downstairs!"

"You heard me say it here and now, I have always been awfully impatient." Spy joked as he sat down on the armchair that his younger self had used a minute ago.

"Yeah, well… Were you here all along?" 

"Oui."

"You heard everything?"

"And saw it too."

Mundy winced and looked away. He leaned back on his armchair and averted his gaze from Spy at all cost. 

"And now I have a vague memory of it too. After all, you were talking to me. But tell me, how did you find me?" 

"Same as now." Mundy said. 

Spy felt his embarrassment. 

"So were you." He answered before silence fell. 

"Spook?" 

"Oui?"

"What he said about… The bloke I talked about. Is it true?"

"Oui." 

"So you know?"

"Oui." 

"Have you - have you known for a long time?"

"Quite a while." Spy answered simply. 

"How long?" 

"A few weeks now, roughly." 

"Bugger…" Mundy hid his face in his hands. 

"Sniper?"

"What?" 

"Don't feel angry."

"I'm not, I'm just… I'm confused, alright? I don't know what to do, what to think anymore!"

"Why?" Spy asked calmly.

"Because you know!" Sniper stood up and headed away. He left the room and went down the stairs, rushing past people. He pushed them out of his way without apologising. He crossed the room when a hand on his arm stopped him. He turned and was about to roar at whoever dared stop him but his rage just vanished. 

"Mundy." 

He looked at his feet. 

"Look at me."

"Nah, mate, I-I can't." 

"Look at him." A voice whispered in his ear and Mundy yielded.

"Mundy," The young Lucien continued. "When I meet you again, in fifteen years, please remind me." 

"Of what?" 

"Remind me of the chat we had today." 

"You think you'll forget it?"

"Non. I won't ever forget the man who broke into the reception under the highest security just to have a chat with me." The younger Lucien tapped his shoulder. "Goodbye."

Mundy nodded and left. When he got in the time machine, he clicked three times on his watch and counted to twenty again...

That night, he spent it thinking in utter silence, in his van. Mundy needed to calm his racing brain but he couldn't help it, it was running as fast as a hamster in a wheel. 

Spy knew the truth. More than that, he had been knowing for the past fifteen-odd years now… 

A knock broke his train of thought. 

"Bugger off." 

The door opened against his expectations and his will. It revealed the silhouette of a man in a suit. Mundy sighed as Lucien entered and shut the door after him. He sat down on his worn out couch, next to him. 

"Mundy, we need to talk."

"I think I said everything already. _You_ need to talk."

"Correct. _I_ need to talk to you and ask you if you are upset or angry against me."

"No."

"But you still lock yourself up here because…?"

"Because I don't know what else to do." 

"Ah, I see." Lucien nodded. "May I tell you what I think?"

Mundy nodded, albeit still not looking at Lucien, who swiftly removed his mask. 

"We both know your side of the story. Aren't you curious to know mine?" 

Mundy shrugged. 

"Really? You don't want to know?" Lucien insisted. 

"What would it change?"

"You can't know if you don't know my version of the story." Lucien answered calmly and Mundy sighed. 

"Alright, go ahead."

Lucien cleared his throat. They were both sitting in the dark in the van and the small windows of it only let a very little amount of moonlight through. 

"You have impressed me today. Of all the places you could have gone to, of all the people… You could have chosen to visit your grandparents, your parents! And yet you chose Paris, 1953." 

Lucien paused. 

"I can only imagine how often you think of me, then; how obsessed you are with me. I don't take it strangely, countless people have before you. But you stand out, Mundy. There is one thing that that cohort of people do not share with you."

Mundy turned his head to ask why.

"Ever since I saw you at this reception, in 1953, your image never left me."

Mundy frowned. 

"The more I think about it, the more I think that in fact, you said it all in your first few words to me, in that smoking room. You said 'You have changed my life'. Did I? How so? Is it that I'm the first man you fall for?"

Lucien looked at Mundy's eyes. 

"Non, it's not that, I can see it in your eyes. What is it then?"

Mundy didn't answer. 

"Usually when I change people's lives, it is because I end it. But I didn't kill you and I never will, I can't. How did I change your life? Did you just mean that your mind was constantly busy with me? Was that it?" 

Again, Lucien looked for the answer in Mundy's eyes. 

"Non, it's not that." He sighed. "Whatever you meant by that is entirely up to you. I can but wonder. But I think you should know that I didn't tell you everything I thought back then, because I didn't know you as I do today."

Mundy raised a curious eyebrow. 

"When you asked me what I would think about an Australian man like you, I didn't tell you the entire truth. But it isn't because I wanted to lie. It is because back then, I didn't have all the truth. However, today, I do. Shall I tell you?" 

Mundy nodded slightly. 

" _Bien."_ Lucien took a deep breath. "If I were to meet a man like you, I would first be curious as I naturally am. I would get to know you, through asking you directly, or digging around, on my own. But I confirm what I said fifteen years ago. I would definitely come and talk to you." 

Mundy was listening, his eyes riveted on the bit of sky through the window opposite them. 

"And what would I discover? I would confirm what I had guessed fifteen years ago already. You are shy and very faithful, but also passionate. And, growing older, I would realise that what lasts in life is what you have inside of you, not the shell outside. I would learn to accept the stubble and the sideburns, the hat and the glasses, the rifle and the van."

Lucien paused and smiled to himself. 

"More than that, I would fall for them all."

Mundy's heart jumped and his blood froze. 

"The van? I would try to spend more time there, if you are in. The rifle? Seeing it means that you are close by. The hat? Underneath it is a good man. The glasses? They hide beautiful, if shy, eyes. The sideburns? They are you as much as you wear them. The hair? I would give a lot to feel it between my fingers."

Mundy's jaw had dropped as he stared at Lucien now, the shock of what he just said painted on his face. Lucien was still looking through the window. 

"I have fallen for you as much as you have for me. _That_ is the difference between all these people who fell for me before you, and you. You, Mundy, and to put it bluntly, I love you."

Mundy put a hand on his mouth to cover his bewilderment. Silence fell. The Aussie was incapable of speech. 

"What you did today, or shall I say fifteen years ago, that is quite unlike you, Mundy. You behaved very bravely. Not to say that you are not courageous, non, I have seen you at work and you are remarkable. I mean for a man as shy as you to choose to tell me that you love me, even if it's fifteen years in advance… It takes some courage. Especially as I am sure that deep down you knew that however twisted you would make your story sound to me, I would understand that the message in its most essential form was 'I love you'."

Mundy sighed and Lucien wrapped an arm around his shoulders. 

"I love you too, Mundy. You don't have to feel strange about it. You don't have to hold yourself back or think that whatever you feel for me is at best a dream and at worse, wasted." 

Lucien smiled before continuing. 

"And if you can accept the same man that you saw today but with fifteen more years, grey hair and lines on his face, then that poor old man would be delighted." 

Mundy looked at Lucien. 

"I…" He finally broke his silence. "I love you." 

"Thus fulfilling your promise." Lucien answered. 

"What promise?"

"You had said that in fifteen years you would tell me who was that man you kept in your heart." Lucien smiled. 

"Yeah, well… It's you."

"Likewise."

"But wait," Mundy frowned. "You knew I loved you and you waited fifteen years like that?"

"I didn't know if I would love you back. Even though, your clumsiness that night was absolutely charming and I did wish that I could find someone like you, someone spontaneous, almost naive, very raw in your emotions, very true to yourself."

"Your complete opposite, eh?" 

"Oui, indeed." They both chuckled. 

"But someone who is passionate, faithful and honest, someone who would be the reason I want to open my eyes every morning, if it is to spend the day with them."

"You're romantic too, eh?"

"Overly so. It is almost a curse." Lucien answered with a smile before looking back in Mundy's eyes. 

"I… I love that about you." Mundy said before leaning his head on Lucien's shoulder. "That, and all the rest actually."

"I am glad you do…" 

Mundy felt that the sentence was left hanging, as if Lucien wasn't sure how to end it. 

_"...mon amour."_

_[...my love.]_

Mundy closed his eyes and smiled. He blushed when he felt and heard Lucien kiss him on his hair.


	71. Spy's voice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "(This is my second time requesting after you opened your askbox, but you wouldn't know that :)) Lu and Medic play a violin and piano duet together (or Demo plays the piano and Lu sings) and Mundy kinda has a bruh moment wherein he realizes he loves Lucien"

* * *

"So, what did you prepare for tonight, fancypants?" 

"Scout, ask me one more time and what you will need to prepare for tonight is your will." 

"Alright, alright…" Scout sighed. "You party pooper…" He mumbled to himself.

Sniper smothered his chuckle. Around the dinner table, the mercenaries were enjoying their dinner, their dessert to be more precise.

" _ Pardon _ ?" Spy asked menacingly in his native tongue. 

"N-nothing…" Scout hid behind his yogurt, scared. 

"So, tonight is Spy's turn, right?" Engie asked, to brighten things up.

"Oui. I asked Demo for some help."

"You yelled at me for the entire week, mate. Please, Engie, never let him rehearse his stuff with me, send anyone else but me!" Demo took a swig of his beloved scrumpy. 

"I only pushed you to give your best for our performance tonight." Spy simply answered and he saw Sniper roll his eyes with a smile. 

"Alrighty then, if we're finished with dinner, you guys go and get ready, we'll come in about half an hour."

"Very well. Demoman, I will not wait for you." 

[Très bien.]

"Someone please save me from him…" Demo exaggerated his plea.

"C'mon, mate, how hard can it be?" Sniper said to comfort him. 

"Well, very hard! Next time,  _ you _ go and work with him!" 

Sniper blushed as Demo and Spy left the room. 

It was a habit now. Every couple of nights, one mercenary would prepare something to entertain his colleagues. It could be a movie, a game of whatever to play or watch all together, anything. They had put that in place in order to spend less dull evenings in that harsh winter. Being the only building for miles around in the blizzard meant that they were stuck for the entire winter there. 

Pyro and Scout finished washing the dishes while people slowly gathered in the training room. It had been turned into a second living room with seats and a TV screen, if one could forget the boxing ring and other sports accessories and installations. 

"Right, I think we're all here. Sniper, the lights, please?" 

Sniper nodded and flipped the switch before taking a seat at the back of course, given how tall he was. The main light turned off and Pyro switched on a spotlight. 

Silence fell for a moment and then, footsteps. Spy appeared, better dressed than usual, which Sniper thought was barely even possible. He was wearing a black tuxedo and black and white polished leather shoes. His eyes shone beautifully under the spotlight. 

Suddenly, a few piano notes. A second light switched on and showed Demo on the piano behind Spy. The latter propped himself up to sit on the piano and grabbed the nearby microphone to start singing as the piano carried his voice. 

{To the reader: the song is "Windmills of your mind" as sung by Noel Harrison}

_ "Round, like a circle in a spiral, _

_ Like a wheel within a wheel, _

_ Never ending or beginning _

_ On an ever-spinning reel." _

Sniper's eyes snapped wide. Spy was speaking more than he was singing and it was so pleasant to hear… His accent helped to make it more true somehow, more mellow.

The notes on the piano accompanied the Frenchman's voice beautifully, coming and going again, in an endless and cyclic arpeggio…

Spy was saying the words like he would declaim a poem, his voice ever so slightly flowing on the notes, the syllables stressed as they should be, the rhythm impeccably followed. His brow would furrow at times, and relax at others, and if at first he started with open eyes, by now, his eyes were shut and he was drinking the meaning of the words he was saying as if it was the air he needed to breathe.

Suddenly he elegantly dropped down from the piano and stood proud in front of his audience. He held the microphone a bit further from his lips and opened his arms, revealing a vest that Sniper had never seen him wear before. Black with satin cashmere motifs that glimmered under the spotlight...

_ "Keys that jingle in your pocket, _

_ Words that jangle in your head." _

Spy's voice was slightly more powerful, it was only a small difference in volume, but Sniper felt his ribcage and his knees tremble. He shook his head to shoo those feelings away and took a deep breath.

_ "Why did summer go so quickly? _

_ Was it something that you said? _

_ Lovers walk along the shore  _

_ And leave their footprints in the sand.  _

_ Is the sound of distant drumming _

_ Just the fingers of your hand? _

_ Pictures hanging in a hallway, _

_ And the fragment of a song, _

_ Half remembered names and faces, _

_ But to whom do they belong?" _

Spy opened his eyes and Sniper's snapped wide open. His long, dark eyelashes seemed different, were they wet? His light blue, almost grey irises were glistening…

_ "When I knew that it was over, _

_ I was suddenly aware _

_ That the autumn leaves were turning _

_ To the color  _

_ Of his hair." _

Spy's keen eyes never left Sniper's half mesmerised and three quarters thrilled ones. The poor Aussie felt as if he was the only person in the audience to a concert that suddenly became very private. His heart was pumping fast, unlike Spy's rhythm which slowed down. He was back to whispering, a gloved hand on his heart, and said, much more slowly this time:

_ "The autumn leaves were turning  _

_ To the colour _

_ Of his hair." _

Demo concluded with a few bars on the piano and then came to a halt. Spy nodded to him and new chords rolled in the air. The rhythm was a samba's, much more lively and light-hearted. Spy snapped his fingers in rhythm.

{To the reader: the song is "So Nice" I recommend the version by Sangah Noona}

_ "Someone to hold me tight, _

_ That would be very nice, _

_ Someone to love me right, _

_ That would be very nice. _

_ Someone to understand  _

_ Each little dream in me, _

_ Someone to take my hand, _

_ To be a team with me. _

_ So nice, _

_ Life would be so nice,  _

_ If one day I find _

_ Someone who would take my hand and samba through life with me."  _

Soldier started rocking left and right on his seat, dragging Engie with him. Medic joined them and Spy, seeing that his rhythmic song was dragging everyone in a good mood, started smiling. Not only did his lips purse up but his eyes were expressing genuine delight somehow. 

Sniper was smiling too, a dreamy grin as he rested his chin on his hand and his elbow on his armrest, slowly melting on his chair. 

"What the hell…." He mumbled to himself as he straightened his back on his chair and tried to resume a more  _ normal _ posture.

The music accelerated as Medic dragged Heavy to swinging on his chair too. 

_ "Someone to cling to me _

_ stay with me right or wrong," _

The Aussie couldn't believe it. Spy was  _ dancing. _ The man with a sense of humor as big as a green pea was  _ dancing. _ And God those hips! He was swinging them almost seductively and Sniper's heart skipped a beat… How come the Frenchman was so flexible with his hips?! 

Sniper opened the first button of his polo shirt as a sweat started breaking on his brow.

_ "Someone to sing to me _

_ Some little samba song! _

_ Someone to take my heart and give his heart to me, _

_ Someone who's ready to give love a start with me!" _

Spy winked at Sniper who blushed and looked left and right to see if it was for someone else.

_ "Oh yes,  _

_ That would be so nice." _

Sniper now breathed heavily, the room was hot, way too hot.

_ "Should it be you and me? _

_ I could see it would be nice!" _

He removed his hat and carded his hair, feeling some fresh air flow through it to cool down his scalp. Sniper was blushing way beyond his ears. He looked down for a second, as Demo improvised on the piano and when he raised his head up again, Spy had disappeared from the improvised stage. The rest of the mercenaries had stood up and were dancing to Demo playing. 

Sniper was panting. The image of Spy, his piercing eyes riveted on him, dancing slowly, swinging his hips was carved on his eyes as if it was marble. And that wink...

He shook his head again as he started to realise why he was sweating like that, why he had enjoyed every second of Spy staring at him even though he would never admit so...

A whistle caught his attention. 

Sniper turned his head. It had come from the door. He barely saw a silhouette slip away. Without thinking, he stood up and followed it. He pushed the door and exited the training room. The sound of the music and dancing was deafened by the closed door now and Sniper focused on knowing where that shadow went. 

The corridor was very dark. He reached for a switch but didn't flip it. Something told him that it was better that way. 

The whistle again. 

Sniper went to find its source but as he came to find it, he heard the base's main door shut. He went there and exited himself. 

The night was pitch dark and the wind was howling. Sniper looked around him and saw nothing. But he heard the slam of a metallic door that he instantly recognised. Whoever he was following, they had entered his van. Sniper followed suit and found himself inside in no time. 

It was pitch dark inside but there was a tiny orange glimmering light and the smell of a menthol cigarette soon found his nose.

"I see you enjoyed the show." The voice with the French accent said. 

The orange light came from the end of Spy's cigarette. 

"Yeah, well, it was pretty good."

"Good enough for you to follow a shadow all the way here…"

"Yeah, it was decent."

"...without this." Spy finished his sentence and Sniper felt something land on his head. His pupils shrank as he realised he had forgotten his very hat.

"Y-yeah well… I had to make sure it was one of us and not… an intruder or something."

Spy spotted the bad lie as he would an elephant in a porcelain shop.

"How would anyone come to the base through this blizzard? Even the Mann Co. supplies have stopped coming. The roads are blocked, airdrop is impossible. No intruders can come here, by no means."

"Y-you never know." Sniper answered. 

"Non, but you did." 

"What?" 

"You knew it was me you were following. You didn't know where I was going and why I kept whistling at you for you to follow me, but you did and here we are: in that ridiculous dwelling of yours that you dare call a home."

"Oi, my van's the perfect place." 

"For what?"

Sniper felt Spy get closer to him. They were face to face in the dark and Sniper saw Spy's eyes reflect the faint lights coming from the base.

"You tell me." Spy answered with a smirk that Sniper heard somehow. 

"What d'you want?" Sniper asked. 

"An honest answer." 

"What's your question?"

"Why do you think I chose those songs to sing to you?" 

Sniper felt hot as he was put on the spot. 

"What d'you mean?" 

"I sang for you, that, you have noticed. But why those songs in particular? What was their message?"

Sniper sighed. He moved to sit on his worn out couch. 

"I-I don't know, okay? And that's a lot of questions. J-just go and leave me here." 

Spy sat next to him. 

"Let me ask you something else then, how did you find my suit tonight?" 

Sniper's eyes snapped wide when he felt Spy's hand on his forearm. It soothed him as much as it made him anxious. 

"Elegant, beautiful, classy." 

"Thank you." Spy said with a smile. "I did try to make an effort."

"Y-yeah, I noticed." 

"Did you notice my mask?" 

"N-no, I mean… It's the same one as usual." 

"Not exactly." Spy answered. "Switch on the light, you will see it better."

Sniper stood up and flipped the switch. When he turned again to face the Frenchman, he choked on his saliva and coughed multiple times. He put a hand on his eyes and another on his chest to ease his cough while Spy chuckled. 

_ "Mon pauvre ami…  _ I half apologise for this."

[My poor friend]

"Oh, Lord, Spook…" Sniper said between two fits of cough as he still hid his eyes behind his hand.

Spy giggled. 

"You did have your mask back there, right? I didn't just imagine it?"

"I did have it. I removed it as I entered your van. You may look if you want." 

"B-but, isn't that against your rules or something?"

"My rules?" Spy repeated, amused. 

"Yeah, I don't know, whatever rules or codes or whatever you Spooks have."

Spy chuckled. 

"There are no such things, Sniper. If I hide my face, it is because I would rather people not see me and recognise me. It is better that way." 

"Then why show me your face?" Sniper asked his hand still hiding his eyes to not see his friend.

"Because I am still a free man and I do what I want."

"And you want to show me your face?" 

"Why not?" 

"Spook, I swear… You're a whole new level of complicated."

Spy put his hand on Sniper's and pulled it away, slowly. Sniper couldn't help but stare. It seemed as though he was discovering a whole new person. It wasn't Spy, it was… well, someone else. 

"Do I have something on my face for you to stare like this?" Spy teased.

"Well," Sniper felt himself sweating again, "I'd say you're missin' something on your face, but eh, who am I to say?"

Spy chuckled. 

"Would you rather I put the mask back?" He cheekily asked. 

"No - I mean, if you're more comfy with it, put it on but…"

"But?" Spy pushed his luck. 

Sniper was staring at his hair. It was mostly black but there was a front grey tuft and the temples too betrayed Spy's age.

"But I-I don't know… Thanks, I guess." 

"For what?" Spy asked. 

"For feeling like you can show me your face. I guess that means you think you can trust me - oh."

Spy had taken Sniper's hand off his face but he wasn't letting go of it. Non, instead he laced his fingers through it. 

"And now?" Spy asked. 

"And now what?" 

"Now, do you know why I chose to sing these songs for you?" 

Sniper blushed. 

"I-I don't know… I'm not sure. Can't you just say it? It'd be a lot easier for the both of us!"

"For you, oui, for me however, it would be quite difficult." 

Sniper rolled his eyes. 

"How hard can it be?" He asked. 

"Almost as hard as what I'm about to do is foolish…" Spy closed the gap between the two of them and pushed his lips against Sniper's. 

Sniper froze. His muscles froze, his blood froze, his heart stopped sharp, like a watch stops at the time of death, Sniper's body burst alive all at once. His hands flew forward to hold Spy closer, his eyes rolled and closed, and his eyebrows slowly rose and relaxed. Spy's naked hands slid up to Sniper's cheeks and he stayed there, hanging from Sniper's lips with his own.

Eventually, they broke the kiss. 

"Woah… Spook, I didn't know you, uh…"

Spy raised his light blue, almost grey eyes to Sniper.

"Did you even realise that you held those feelings for me too?" 

"M-maybe." 

"Sniper…?" 

"Right, yeah, I realised it when you sang today. I-I just felt weird and I knew…"

Spy smiled sweetly, as he brushed Sniper's cheek with his long and slim fingers. 

"I'm glad you feel the same." Spy said. 

"As if you were surprised… You look gorgeous with that suit on and now, without the mask, you're just…" Sniper's eyes darted to every detail of Spy's face. 

He bit his lip and suddenly pulled Spy's head to him again. He kissed Spy with such force and passion that Spy lost his legs. Thank God he was sitting down and Sniper was holding him, or he would have flowed down to the floor like a liquid. 


	72. The zoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "So. I'm a big animal lover, and uhh. Prehaps you could write a story of Lucien and Mick visiting the zoo? And spy is obsessed with the big cats- Anyway. Your writing is a treat to read and I hope you have a good day and or night!"

"Where are you taking me,  _ mon chaton?" _

_ [My kitten]  _

"To see yourself."

Lucien raised a curious eyebrow. Both Mundy and him were in the van, racing through the desert. They were far from the base now and they could see the city. 

"To see myself?" Lucien repeated. 

"Yeah, to see you like I do."

"You spend too much time with me, Mundy." 

Mundy's eyes went to Lucien for a second. 

"What?"

"You start to sound as mysterious as me." Lucien answered with a smile. 

"Well, I learnt from the best, eh?" 

"Flatterer." 

"Yeah, because you like it." Mundy put his hand on Lucien's thigh and brushed it. If he had been able to, Lucien would have purred. "We aren't too far from it. Should be next turn. Ah! There it is!"

Lucien squinted behind his sunglasses to see better. 

"The zoo?! You are taking me to see myself in a zoo?!" He exclaimed. 

"Why d'you make it sound so bad?" Mundy asked as he parked the van. "You'll see what I mean when we get in. Come along!"

Seatbelts clicked open and the van's doors slammed shut. A few moments later, they were in the zoo under the setting sun of the end of the afternoon.

"So, any animals you wanna see in particular?" 

"Mundy, either I'm blind you literally didn't pay to get in here." Lucien answered. 

"You're not blind, but that doesn't answer my question." 

Lucien stopped walking. 

"Why are we here?" Lucien asked. 

"Because you and I like animals."

"That is not the point. Why did you bring me here? And look around you… There is no one but the people who work here."

Mundy took a deep breath. 

"I wanted to surprise you, you mongrel. I know you like animals but you don't like it when it's crowded with people so I thought I'd take you after their closure time. I only had to make a few phonecalls and that was it." 

Lucien's jaw dropped. 

"How the hell did you manage that?"

Mundy took Lucien's hand and started walking. 

"You have your secrets, I have mine, Spook." 

"Please, Mundy, tell me." 

"Well… I have a bit of a reputation, see?"

"Do you? As a zookeeper?"

"Nah, as a hunter. But not one that goes only after beasts. I also did put an end to a lot of poachin' back in Australia. I was so good I also got paid to do some work here in America. This zoo had a few of their species stolen a few months ago. I helped track the poachers down and one morning they found them and the stolen animals at the front gate… Ice cream?"

They were passing in front of a stand. 

"Why not." 

Mundy paid for them and a bag of popcorn and they continued their chat, walking through the alleys where they could see the animals that usually lived in the savannah. 

"In the end," Mundy resumed his story, "I have free tickets here and I only had to ask to have them close a bit later, just to take you in and have a look."

Lucien leaned his head on Mundy's shoulder. 

"That is quite the story,  _ mon chaton." _

_ [My kitten] _

"Yeah well, you're not the only one who knows a few people around, eh?" Mundy winked and Lucien melted. 

"I can see that, indeed."

They climbed some stairs and stopped in front of the giraffe's enclosure. They were at the giraffe's height.

"Wanna feed them?"

"We can?" 

"Why d'you think I got the popcorn? Oi! Gorgeous! C'mere, you!"

The giraffes with their slow gaits took a minute to come and Mundy fed them the popcorn he had bought. 

"They eat popcorn?!"

"They like it as much as you like your rotten grapes, love."

"For the thousandth time, it is wine, Mundy, not just rotten grapes!"

"Can't see a bloody difference." Mundy teased and Lucien rolled his eyes with a smile. "Remove your gloves and give me your hand." 

Lucien did as he was told. Mundy positioned his hand flat, palm up, and put a few popcorn there. A giraffe turned its head and ate them out of the Lucien's very hand. 

"Mon Dieu! What a strange sensation!"

[My God!]

"It's only like a tickle."

"Oui, indeed! I had no idea they could be that delicate, and look at their tongues, they're very long!"

"I won't comment on that…" Mundy said chuckling and Lucien blushed. 

"Very clever, Bushman…"

"Oh come on… Right, you beauties, you've had enough, you can go back to sleep. Nah, nah, don't look at me with your big eyes like that, I won't change my mind…!" Mundy patted them gently. "G'night, pretty girl." 

Lucien tilted his head and smiled as the giraffes turned and headed away.

"You seem to know your way with giraffes better than with human females." 

"They're much easier to talk to."

"Because they don't speak back?" Lucien asked. 

"Nah, because they know what they want and they make it very clear." 

"Ah, you do have a point,  _ mon chaton." _

_ [My kitten] _

They walked down the metallic stairs again and resumed their visit. 

"Mundy?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Do you mind if we have a look at the felines?" 

"You like big cats?" 

"Oui. They are my favourite." 

"Lucky day for you then." Mundy took his hand and headed to the feline corner. 

"Why?"

"I'm told they recently got panther cubs."

"Really?" Lucien opened wide eyes.

"Yeah, unfortunately, their mum didn't make it. After she gave birth, she had a hard time healin' back up and they realised too late that she had some kind of problem that they couldn't solve." 

"Oh…" Lucien's distress was visible. 

"Yeah, they're waiting for a female panther to come any day now to replace her. Meanwhile, the zookeepers play mum." 

"Ah, I see." 

"Also, here we are, felines!"

"These are lions." Lucien let go of Mundy's hand and stuck himself to the window. "Look at them… They are gorgeous…" 

"Yeah, impressive, eh?" 

"Very much so." Lucien said, his eyes darting everywhere to every little detail. "They are majestic. There is something about their calm… It's both soothing and absolutely nerve-wrecking. I love that kind of tension." 

Mundy came behind his lover and wrapped his arms around his waist, resting his jaw on Lucien's shoulder. 

"I know you do, love. Look at him, surrounded by sheilas, like you." 

"A couple of decades ago, oui." 

Both smiled, Lucien in nostalgia, Mundy, simply because he had the reason his heart was beating for in his arms. 

"Let us proceed." 

"Right." 

Lucien took Mundy's hand and walked further. 

"Those are… What do you call them in English,  _ mon chaton?" _

_ [My kitten] _

"Cheetahs."

"Ah, thank you, we call them ' _ guépards'.  _ Cheetahs. They are beautiful. Look how slim they are… I like their spotted fur, it's quite remarkable. And long at the length of their tails!"

Lucien looked at Mundy who was quite silent and saw his eyebrows jump at the remark about the cheetah's long tails. 

"Don't even think about it!" Lucien said. 

"I didn't think about anything, darl'!"

"Yes, you did. I saw it in your eyes. What a dirty mind you have." 

"As if you didn't like my dirty mind…" Mundy laced his arms around Lucien. 

"Hmm… You are correct, I like it more than I should." 

They exchanged a quick kiss. 

"But yeah," Mundy continued. "They're slim and have a long tail to be able to run fast and make sudden turns. Their tails act as a counterweight that helps them turn." 

"Oh, I see…"

"They're also extremely fragile psychologically. It's quite usual that when a zoo gets baby cheetahs, they raise them with puppies."

"Dogs?" 

"Yeah, baby dogs." 

"Why?" Lucien asked as he leaned on Mundy better. 

"Because the cheetahs get scared for nothing, they're very anxious creatures. Having a puppy helps their nerves, like it does for us." 

"I'd prefer a kitten." Lucien said. 

"I know, the kind of kitten that's taller than you, eh?" Mundy said, meaning his own self.

"Oui." Lucien smiled. "The tall and sexy kind of kitten."

Mundy chuckled and kissed him on his clean-shaven cheek. He breathed in Lucien's expensive perfume and closed his eyes. 

"M-Mundy, there are people around, they could see us." Lucien said as he felt his lover's lips weren't going away from his neck.

"Your fault… You shouldn't smell that good… And you shouldn't be that well shaved, you're so soft…" 

Lucien giggled as Mundy's stubble was tickling him in his neck, he tried wiggling to free himself from Mundy's arms but to no avail. 

"Mundy! Stop it…!"

"Nah…"

"Alright, fine, what if I kiss you, would you stop then?"

Mundy stopped with the nibbling and emerged from Lucien's neck. 

"If you make it worth it…" He cheekily answered. 

"If I make it - Mundy, tell me one time one of my kisses disappointed you!"

"Well, not yet, but it could be today. It'd be a shame, you'd fail yer kiss and I'd have no choice but to continue doing what I'm doing, eh?" 

"Oh, shut up and come here…" 

Lucien spun around to face Mundy and pushed himself to the tip of his toes before meeting his lips. 

The cheetahs gathered on the other side of the window. They laid down and blinked in the dark, the only light coming to them was one from the near lamp posts. 

"I love you." Lucien said when their lips parted. 

"Yeah, well, I'm crazy about you, love." 

Lucien smiled and took his lover's hand. 

"Let's go to the next enclosure." 

They walked for a minute or so and found themselves in front of a much wider enclosure. 

"What animal is there?" Mundy asked. 

"Sshh…  _ Mon amour,  _ look!"

[My love]

Lucien pointed to the right and Mundy saw a tiger walk, slowly, heavily, his paws dilating as they touched the ground with a thud that split the grass beneath it.

"He is… gorgeous." 

"It's a she, mate." 

"Oh, my apologies,  _ Madame.  _ She is beautiful!" 

_ [Madam] _

The tiger raised her eyes to both of them and Lucien took a step back, impressed by her sharp eyes. He bumped on Mundy's chest. 

"Oh, you alright?" 

"O-oui." 

"You're scared of her?" 

"N-non, I mean, I know there is this window between us but still. Look at her muscles as she lies down. She is truly remarkable." 

Lucien crouched down to watch her better. 

"Oh, she is cleaning herself now. You barely need to, Madame, you look ravishing. Your stripes are beautiful, you are absolutely stunning…"

Mundy found it touching. Lucien was speaking to the tiger as if she would hear and understand him. 

"Oh, she's going back home? Goodbye Madame, and thank you for honouring us with your presence."

Lucien bowed and the tiger went away. 

"Lu'?"

"Oui?"

"I want to show you something, you wanna follow me?" 

Lucien took Mundy's hand again. 

"Of course, you lead the way." 

Lucien followed his lover who looked like he knew the place very well. They arrived in front of a small gate that read "Staff only". He pushed it and entered. 

"Are we sure we can?" 

"Yeah." 

They soon entered a shed. 

"Hey, Mundy!" Two zookeepers were inside. They seemed to have been waiting for him. 

"Hey there! This is Lucien, my second half." 

Lucien blushed beyond his ears. 

"Hello, Lucien, welcome here!" 

Hands were shaken. 

"Th-thank you very much although… I'm not sure I know where I am?"

"Didn't you tell him?" One of the zookeepers asked Mundy. 

"Nah, he doesn't know." 

"Ah, ok. In any case, you know what to do, right?" 

"Yeah." Mundy answered. 

"Here's the walkie-talkie. Call us if you need. We won't be far." 

"Cheers, mates." 

The zookeepers exited the shed, leaving Lucien and Mundy alone. 

"Look, love. Uhm, open that door." 

"This one?" 

"Yeah." 

"Fine." 

Lucien put his hand on the handle and opened. 

"Get inside, I'm right behind you, and I need to shut the door." 

Lucien did as he was told. The room was poorly lit. Mundy flipped a switch and-

"Mon Dieu!"

[My God!]

Two black panther cubs mewled and trotted to Lucien's feet. He dropped to his knees. 

"Oh! Look at them! They are gorgeous!  _ Pauvres bébés!" _

[Poor babies!]

Mundy smiled and bent down to his knees too. He took one of the cubs in his hands. 

"Can we touch them?" 

"Of course!" 

"This is better than Christmas!" Lucien removed his gloves and let his fingers run through their fur. "They are incredibly soft!"

"Yeah, they are… There's uh, two females and one male." 

"They're all adorable, listen to their mewls…! I'm sorry their mother isn't here for them…"

"Uh, Lu'?"

Lucien heard the change of tone in Mundy's voice.

"Oui?" 

"When the zoo paid me for bringin' their parrots back, yeah it was parrots that got stolen, uhm… I refused the money."

Lucien looked at his lover and frowned. 

"Why?" 

"I gave it back to take care of these cubs while they're waiting for a foster mum."

"Oh… That's adorable of you." Lucien smiled sweetly. 

"Yeah, well. Imagine if you were a baby left alone…"

"You have a very kind heart,  _ mon chaton." _

_ [My kitten] _

"Thanks, love. But that's not the whole story. D'you remember what I told you earlier?" 

"About what?" 

"When you asked me where I was taking you." 

Lucien recalled…

"Hm… You said you were taking me to see myself." Lucien answered. 

"Yeah. The zoo let me choose the name for the cubs and uh… Well… The male, the one you have in your hands, look at his eyes." 

Lucien did as he was told. 

"He has very fair blue eyes." 

"Yeah, like who?" Mundy asked and Lucien's eyes snapped wide.

"Non, you didn't…! Did you?!"

"Did I what?" Mundy asked with a smirk. 

"Did you name him… Lucien?" Lucien asked. 

Mundy nodded. 

"Well, he's a precious little panther with gorgeous eyes, like you. So I said to the zoo that he should be called Lu'. That's what I meant when I said I was takin' you to see yourself, or how I see you, at least."

"You see me like him?" Lucien asked.

"Yeah," Mundy wrapped his arms around his lover and hugged him. "You've got the most gorgeous eyes I've ever seen. You're deadly for your enemies but for me, you're just a ball of…"

"Of?"

"Repressed romance hidden behind a mask of…"

"Of?" Lucien asked. 

"Of arrogance or something!"

Both chuckled.

"Thank you,  _ mon chaton." _

_ [My kitten] _

They exchanged a quick kiss. 

"Nah, now you're the kitten." Mundy tapped on the tip of Lucien's nose playfully.

The cubs were still mewling in their laps. 

"So that's why you've been so insistent that we should go out sometime, hm?" Lucien asked. 

"Yeah… I thought it'd be a nice surprise… You're the one who usually does that kind of stuff to me. I thought I could repay the favour." 

"You have nothing to repay,  _ mon amour."  _

_ [My love.] _

Lucien slid a hand up Mundy's cheek as he pushed himself to meet his lips. He stayed there, feeling a strong hand on his lower back, pulling him up close. 

They eventually broke the kiss. 

"We should get back home…" Mundy said. 

"Oui, I guess the zoo needs to close at some point."

"... _ Mon chaton."  _

_ [My kitten] _

Lucien's eyes snapped wide as his pupils did when he heard Mundy's voice utter those words. The pronunciation wasn't too far off, it was the right amount of his accent, a delicious twist that made the Frenchman melt further. 


	73. La leçon de Français - the French lesson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "May I make a request? How about Sniper trying to tell Spy ‘I love you’ in French and absolutely fumbling the pronunciation? Thank you! "

* * *

"I'll never manage…" Sniper let the piece of paper he was holding fall on his lap before rubbing his eyes. 

He sighed and took the piece of paper back.

"C'mon, how hard can it be…? 'Je', that's  _ 'je',  _ that means I. And then  _ 't'aime',  _ that's  _ 'love you' _ but for some odd reason they put the  _ 'you'  _ before the  _ 'love' _ .... So for them it's  _ 'I you love'. _ .."

Those were the last words scribbled on it, by his own hand. 

_ 'Je t'aime' _

The French for 'I love you'. 

"And God only knows how they pronounce it… Where's that bloody dictionary…?" 

Sniper let his hands roam on his bed and his fingers soon bumped on a big book. He moved the duvet that was in the way and grabbed it. 

"Do they say somewhere how you read the letters…?" 

He flipped the pages quickly. 

"Hm… That's the alphabet, nah, then that's - ah! Bugger, it's in phonetic alphabet, of course! I can't read these weird letters, ugh…"

He dropped the book to his lap. 

"Well then, I'll do it as I think it is, and I hope it won't be too far from what it should sound like. Right, what time is it?" He glanced at his watch. "Gosh, I'm gonna be late!" 

Sniper jumped out of his bed and put on his boots. He put his dictionary along with a notepad and his pen in a bag and left his van. He entered the base and went straight for Spy's room. 

It was now a habit. Every other day, Spy would teach his mother tongue to his friend who made every effort possible to learn fast and well. It was the only way Sniper had found to spend more time with Spy. 

Yes, as awkward and shy as he was, Sniper hadn't found any other excuse than that to spend more time with the man he dreamt of, may it be at night, or during the day, with his eyes wide open. Sometimes, he would even think of him on the battlefield. Each time he would blink, he would see him, against his closed eyelids, the masked face of the man with the most beautiful eyes, the most charming manners and a dangerous feline gait… 

Sniper arrived in front of Spy's door and knocked. 

_ "Entre." _

_ [Come in.] _

He pushed the door and entered. 

"I think I'm a minute late, I'm sorry, mate."

Spy raised his index finger from his armchair. 

_ "En Français." _

_ [In French.] _

Sniper frowned as he came to Spy and sat on the sofa. 

"Uhm… Euh…  _ Pardon, je suis…  _ How do you say  _ 'late'?" _

"We say  _ 'en retard'." _

"Right,  _ merci. _ So, uh,  _ pardon, je suis en retard?" _

[Thanks… Sorry, I am late?]

Spy smiled. 

_ "Très bien." _

_ [Very well.] _

Sniper felt proud of himself. 

_ "As-tu fait tes devoirs?" _

_ [Have you done your homework?] _

"Oui." Sniper fumbled through his bag and took his notepad out. He flipped the pages until he found the right one. "There it is!"

Spy raised an eyebrow with a smile. 

_ "En Français." _

_ [In French.] _

Sniper had no clue how to say that so he looked at Spy, then at the notepad, then at Spy again and said with a shy smile:

_ "Tadaaa!" _

Spy chuckled. 

"You can't tell me it's wrong, you got the point." Sniper added. 

"Indeed, I did. You could have just got away with a simple  _ 'Voilà'." _

"Really?"

"Oui  _ 'Voilà'  _ is the contraction of  _ 'vois là',  _ which means…?" Spy waited for Sniper to answer. 

"Look here?" 

"Oui! So we use  _ 'Voilà' _ when we want to draw someone's attention to something." Spy explained. 

"Ah, ok… I mean…  _ 'Je vois'." _

_ [I see.] _

Spy nodded with a satisfied smile. 

"You are making progress,  _ mon cher ami." _

_ [My dear friend] _

"Yeah, well, I work hard and… Uh, I guess the teacher's ok." Sniper teased. 

"You guess the teacher is ok?!" Spy repeated. "Your teacher is the best you could find for miles around, quite literally!"

Sniper chuckled. 

"Yeah, it's true." 

They exchanged a smile and blushed, but because of the mask, Sniper couldn't see Spy's.

"So, go ahead, read me your homework. I had asked you to write a few lines before going to bed, about something you think about. It could be anything and it doesn't need to be interesting, it is just a little writing exercise." 

"Yeah, I think I did ok, uhm, here we go," Sniper cleared his throat before starting.

_ "La nuit, avant de dormir, je pense à quelqu'un de spécial."  _

_ [At night, before sleeping, I think about someone special.] _

Spy raised an eyebrow but didn't interrupt Sniper who was almost hiding himself behind his notepad. He was reading slowly, paying attention to the letters that shouldn't be pronounced, and the hard French 'r' that was a nightmare for him. Spy had insisted that it wasn't too hard, it had to be  _ purred.  _ He had showed Sniper and purred again and again, not knowing that the Aussie's knees were turning to jelly as he did so. 

  
  


_ "C'est un homme qui m'intéresse. Il n'est pas comme les autres." _

_ [It's a man who interests me. He isn't like the others.] _

Sniper looked up and saw Spy's eyes on him. He blished and hid his eyes behind his notepad again, flustered. 

_ "Je pense qu'il est très mystérieux mais en réalité, il est très simple. Personne ne le comprend. Je ne sais pas si lui-même il se comprend." _

_ [I think he is very mysterious but in truth, he is very simple. No one undeerstands him. I don't know if he understands himself.] _

Sniper cleared his throat and went on, frowning on his handwriting. He liked it when Spy wrote things to him, even if it was just grammar rules. His handwriting was so soothing… He wrote in cursive and the pen always seemed to glide with such harmony on the paper. 

_ "Personne ne sait ce qu'il cache derrière son masque. Mais je sais ce qu'il cache dans sa tête. Un esprit très vif, ça tout le monde l'a vu, mais aussi une grand patience." _

_ [No one knows what he hides behind his mask. But I know what he hides in his mind. A very quick and witty mond, everybody has seen it, but a great deal of patience too.] _

Spy's jaw had dropped as he started to catch the drift of it all. He began to understand who that man Sniper thought about was… 

Sniper paused to catch his breath and gather his courage. He knew the last paragraph would be the hardest to read. It had been the hardest to write too. 

_ "Mais ce que le masque ne parvient pas à cacher, ce sont ses yeux. Les plus beaux yeux que je n'ai jamais vus, je crois. Aussi bleus et clairs qu'un ciel d'été, avec de longs cils noirs, comme de fins rideaux qui couvrent de mystère un regard trop perçant pour moi parfois." _

_ [But what the mask doesn't manage to hide, is his eyes. The most beautiful eyes I have ever seen, I think. As blue and loght as the summer sky, with long black eyelashes that cover with mystery his gaze that is too piercing for me sometimes." _

Sniper felt as if hot lava was poured on his head. He was sweating bullets under the heat of the foolishness. He screwed his eyes shut as he concluded. 

_ "Mais à cet homme, j'aimerais lui dire." _

_ [But to that man, I would like to say.] _

Sniper had to say it now, there was no turning around and going away, that was  _ it. _

_ "Je t'aime." _

_ [I love you.] _

He remained hidden behind the notepad. It was hard enough to say those things so if he had to bear Spy's gaze, he would burst into flames! 

But Spy thought otherwise. He needed to see the man who had written and almost recited that poem to him. 

Sniper spoke before he had the chance.

"I… I s'ppose it's full of mistakes and uh… The pronunciation might be shit at times but I, uh, I hope you got the idea." 

Spy smiled behind the notepad. 

"There was no grammar mistakes, not even the tiniest one. Were I to write it, I would have written the exact same thing." 

Sniper disn't know what to feel. He was torn between the pride of having made no mistakes and the shame of what he had finally admitted. 

"Although there was one thing you did not do perfectly. Could you pronounce that last sentence again for me, please?" 

Sniper would have died of blush, his ears felt like they would have burst. 

_ "J-je t'aime."  _

_ [I-I love you.] _

Sniper saw four gloved fingers at the top of his notepad which slowly sank down, revealing the eyes he both could not get enough of, and could not face. 

Spy had somehow moved from his armchair to the sofa and was now next to Sniper. He answered with his lips pursed in a sweet smile.

_ "Moi aussi, je t'aime, mon beau." _

_ [I love you too, my beautiful one.] _


	74. Tickle fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Did somebody say FLUFF? How about our favorite couple getting into a tickle fight? That sounds cute!"

_ "Talalala… Tutulututuu…" _

Spy was humming one of those old French tunes he liked so much. At the same time, he was cooking for him and Sniper, who was taking a shower. 

"Ah…" 

Spy heard the noise of the shower stop and it made him more excited. He knew he would see his lover any second now. He smiled. 

_ "Palaparapapa… Tilalalilara…" _

The pan's content was sizzling nicely and Spy only had to make sure it wasn't burning, so he'd stir it from time to time. He stole a cherry tomato from the salad and snacked on it, resting his hands on his hips. He was wearing his suit trousers and his shirt, the first few buttons of which were open, and he hadn't put on his tie yet. 

"Hey, there…" Sniper wrapped his arms around Spy's waist, from behind and nibbled at his neck.

"Hmm… Bonjour… You smell amazing." Spy answered melting in Sniper's arms and leaning against him.

"Thanks, I used your shower gel."

"I know, that's why you smell amazing." Spy arrogantly said with a smirk. 

"Oh, cause otherwise I don't, eh?" Sniper asked, feigning offense. 

"Well, I didn't say it." 

Sniper tightened his embrace and kissed Spy on the cheek. 

"You posh little mongrel."

"Rude and incorrect. I am not little."

"Yeah, you are, look at you, next to me you're tiny." 

"Who isn't tiny next to you?" Spy answered. 

"Oh ho, listen to you talkin' back all the time, cheeky." 

"Make me shut up then." Spy suggested as he removed the pan and stopped the fire on the stove. He spun around to face Sniper and looked up at him, his eyes shining after a fashion. "Try to make me stop talking and teasing you, as if you didn't like it." His hands were brushing Sniper's chest slowly.

"I won't try, darl', I will." Sniper bent down to kiss Spy and the Frenchman took the bait until-

"Hm?! Stop it! Hahahaha!! You know I hate that, stop!"

"That's what ya get!"

Sniper started furiously tickling his lover who tried to squirm and wiggle away from his grasp. 

"Sniper! Please! Hahahaa!!"

Spy caught his breath in short snorts that Sniper had learnt to love. But soon he felt Spy's hands on his own sides, trying to counter-attack. 

"Oi! What d'you think you're doin'?! Hands off!"

"Non!" 

Sniper tried his best to resist but ended up bursting in laughter too and lowering his guard for a moment. Of course, Spy took advantage of this…

"Take a taste of your own medicine, Bushman!"

But soon, Sniper took control of the situation back and after a minute of absolute torture, when he saw that he had started drawing tears from Spy's eyes, he stopped and let him catch his breath. 

"Oh… Mon Dieu… Sniper… Just, you wait… I catch my breath and I shall take my revenge… Oof…" Spy panted, a hand on his chest.

Sniper chuckled and hugged him.

"You asked me to make you stop talkin'."

"And you failed."

"What?! You were laughing! Not talkin'!"

Spy raised his head to look into the lagoon blue eyes that he had fallen for each time they met his gaze.

"I'll show you how to shut someone up." Spy said as he pushed himself to the tip of his toes to kiss Sniper.

"Uh-uh-uh." Sniper put his index finger on Spy's lips. "You might make me shut up with that, but that's how  _ I get you screamin', love." _

Spy's breath cut short and his pupils dilated like a cat's in the dark. 

"Please, make me." He answered, his head tilted up and looking at Sniper as if he was the very air he needed to breathe. 

"Hm, I don't know. I might, I might not. Y'know, I got stuff to do, Spook." Sniper lied and turned on his heels, walking away from the kitchen. Spy couldn't help but follow him. "And you were cooking, I don't want to be a bother." 

They entered the bedroom, Spy still on Sniper's heels. 

"Sniper… Please…?"

Sniper turned and faced Spy. 

"What? D'you want me to make you shut up or scream now?"

"Both…?" Spy shyly answered, his hands slithering up Sniper's chest, who smiled maliciously.

"Alright, then, but remember,  _ you _ were the one to ask for it." 

Sniper pushed Spy to lie on the bed and didn't let him catch his breath as he let go of his dressing gown and dived down straight to Spy’s neck. 

In no time, the Frenchman was singing the spiciest of melodies.


	75. Mushy to Perle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The zoo fanfic gave me the floof and now I had another idea. Lucien as we all know is a calm and courteous man and has this wall built up to make him look prim and proper all the time. Until one day Mundy just catches him being all mushy to Perle. He teases him for a bit until Hootsy comes in and he joins in with all the love giving to their pets."

“Meow?”

“Hm?” Spy raised an eyebrow.

Perle, his fluffy white lady cat trotted to him who was reading his faithful  _ Dapper Cadaver _ on his sofa.

“Meow?” She jumped on his lap and looked up at him with her big blue eyes.

_ “Que veux-tu, ma belle?”  _

[What do you want, pretty?]

“Meoow.” She stood on her back legs and put her paws on his cheeks before brushing her head against his mouth. 

Spy had no choice but to put his magazine down. He hugged his cat and removed his gloves before losing his fingers in her soft and long fur. 

_ "Oh, je sais, je n'ai pas fait tellement attention à toi ces derniers temps, je te demande pardon, ma chérie." _

_ [Oh, I know, I didn't pay much attention to you lately, I am sorry, sweetheart.] _

Perle purred louder as she closed her eyes in the dear embrace. She loved it when her master took a bit of his time and gave it to her. Her fluffy tail waved lazily under the affection that Spy was giving her. He scratched her back, kissed her head repeatedly and whispered to her. 

_ "Pardon, ma chérie, vraiment… Oh, je ne te mérite pas, et je ne mérite surtout pas toute cette patience que tu me donnes… Merci, merci, Perle…" _

_ [Sorry, my sweetheart, really… Oh, I don't deserve you, and I don't deserve all the patience you have for me… Thank you, thank you, Perle…] _

Perle meowed and purred. She put her paws on Spy's shoulder and started kneading it. He could almost feel her claws through his white shirt. 

"Aww…"

He held her lower body with one hand for her to lay her head on his shoulder. 

"Meow…"

She wrapped her soft little paws around his neck in a hug and kept purring, right below his ear. 

_ "Oui, ma chérie, pardon… Je vais passer plus de temps avec toi, c'est promis." _

_ [Yes, my sweetheart, sorry… I will spend more time with you, I promise.] _

He kissed her head repeatedly while holding her almost like a baby. The sound of her purring was so soothing that he leaned back on his seat and closed his eyes. 

_ "Il m'est arrivé tout un tas de choses cette semaine et je ne savais plus où donner de la tête." _

_ [A lot of things happened to me this week and I didn't know what to do anymore.] _

Spy took a deep breath and sighed before continuing, not seeing a tall shadow moving in his smoking-room. 

_ "Sniper m'a enfin dit ce qu'il ressent pour moi. Et moi, je lui ai dit ce que je ressentais pour lui. On a ensuite passé la semaine ensemble, on a été quasiment inséparable." _

_ [Sniper finally told me what he felt for me. And I did the same. We then spent the entire week together, we have been practically inseparable.] _

"Meow…" She answered, between two purs. 

_ "Oui, je sais, ce n'est pas une raison pour t'oublier comme ça. Pardon…"  _

_ [Yes, I know, this is not reason to forget you like that. My apologies…] _

She purred louder as Spy was scratching her head now. 

"I'd almost be jealous." 

"Huh?!" Spy gasped and turned. He realised Sniper was right behind the sofa. 

"I thought you didn't show your feelings." Sniper mocked his lover as he took a seat on the sofa next to him.

"And I don't!" Spy insisted. 

"Says the bloke who's apologisin' to the kitty, hugging her like his life depends on it." 

"You do not understand." Spy hid his blush in Perle's fur.

"Yeah, I do. She counts a lot, that kitty, eh?" Sniper scratched Perle and she didn't complain. 

"More than what anyone could think."

"Listen to you…" Sniper curled an arm around Spy's shoulder and the latter leaned on him. "You're so sentimental." 

"Not always. Not with anyone."

"You prefer to be like that with her rather than with human beings." 

"Oui. She listens and understands. She doesn't judge me or try to make me feel worse."

"I know, love. I wasn't saying the contrary and I wasn't mocking you. Just sayin', is all." Sniper turned his head to kiss Spy's brow.

"That's it?" Spy asked. 

"That's it, what?" Sniper answered, confused. 

"You are not telling me that I am ridiculous for confiding in a cat? That I should confide in you instead?"

"Nah, why would I? If you feel comfy with her, I'm fine with that, eh? As long as you spare some love for me…" 

Spy raised his head and released Perle. She curled in a ball of fur, on their thighs. 

"Don't worry. I don't love her like I love you and we are still very early in, well,  _ our story." _

"I know, I know. And, uh, I kinda like the way you talk to her. You sound very… uh…"

Sniper didn't want to offend his lover so he kept on looking for the perfect word. 

"Say it, Sniper."

"N-nah, I don't exactly know… I mean…"

"Just say what you think, I won't feel offended."

"Y-you sure?"

"Oui, please, speak your mind."

"I mean, when you speak to her, you sound very, uh,  _ norm-natural?" _

Sniper had caught himself but of course Spy knew what he had meant. 

"You wanted to say  _ 'normal',  _ non?"

"Well… Don't take it the wrong way, ok?" 

Spy chuckled, his hand half on Sniper's thigh and half on Perle. 

"I don't, do not worry." He raised his head and closed his eyes. Sniper took on the hint and bent down to meet his lover's lips. "I know what you mean. Most people do not see me as you or Perle do." 

"Yeah, it's quite surprising. But I like it. I like the real you."

"Have you been eavesdropping for long?" 

"Quite a bit, yeah."

"Why not interrupt us earlier? Or you wanted to spy on the Spy, hm?" Spy smiled and wiggled his eyebrows. 

"Yeah, well, I'm surprised I managed to not raise your suspicions, eh?" Sniper said with a chuckle. 

"And I am doubly surprised. I didn't suspect a thing but more surprisingly,  _ she  _ didn't." Spy looked down at Perle. She was looking at them both, blinking slowly as if she was falling asleep. 

"I think she likes me." Sniper scratched her back and she purred. 

"Oui, she does. But not as much as I do you." Spy's fingers found Sniper's in Perle fur and he leaned his head on Sniper's shoulder. 

"Spook?" 

"Hm?" 

"I… I'm gonna sound a bit cheesy but uh…"

"Go ahead." Spy encouraged him. 

"I love you." 

Spy smiled against his lover's shoulder. 

"I love you, too…  _ You Australian spy." _

They chuckled, even after their lips met. 


	76. Lu's nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Today hasn’t been my day, but I’m coping by imagining some characters being comforted by their lover. Can you write something about Spy or Sniper being anxious and/or upset and the other comforting him? "
> 
> "Lucien has an nightmare and like the good husband mundy is conforms the heck out of him"

Lucien sighed. Television had nothing good to offer at two in the morning apart from documentaries on animals. If Mundy had been with him, he would have enjoyed himself so much…! 

But non. Nightmares were apparently only for the ex-spy. He had them very frequently; so frequently in fact, that he had grown to hate the act of sleeping itself and thus, his life awake had become yet another nightmare. He had become irascible, he had lost his appetite and refused to go to his bed. Argh, the mere thought of the large double-bed with his million cushions and pillows of all sizes and shapes made him gag! 

It had all started a bit after Mundy had flown back to Australia. He wanted to see his parents again and tell them for him and Lucien. Of course, the ex-spy never opposed that decision and had been spending the past few weeks in a state of silent anxiety. Mundy had told him that he would try to call him from time to time but he would spend most of his time with his parents and the difference in time between France and Australia being horrendously big, he hadn't called a single time in all these days. 

As a result, Lucien was absolutely terrified. As with each day that passed, more questions sprang up in his mind, like dangerous plants with thorns growing in the rich soil of his imagination. 

How would Mundy's parents react to their relationship? Would they accept it? Would they not? Had Mundy already broken up with him and he didn't get the hints? Had his parents forced him to put an end to it and he didn't even get the chance to say goodbye? 

Lucien wasn't biting his nails anymore, it was his very fingers he was gnawing on. 

But patience, patience. Mundy was supposed to land back in Paris that very night. He had taken a cheap flight back which meant that the times were far from practical, but eh, at least he would be home soon now. 

Lucien couldn't help but look at his watch during every commercial break, at every pause, every other minute. The more it lasted, the more unbearable it was becoming. He felt hot, way too hot, even in January and on the few occasions that the screen would go black, he would see his reflection on it, the dark bags under his eyes and the worry and tension written all over his face.

Lucien was nonetheless lying in their bed, waiting for his dearest to come back. He didn't realise it but he fell asleep. 

Meanwhile, keys jingled at the door and soon Mundy entered, trying to be as silent as possible. He took a moment to appreciate the familiar smell of home and smiled. He left his luggage in the living-room and went to their bedroom where he found Lucien lying down and the television still on. He took a moment to appreciate Lucien's beauty. The man was as handsome as he was charming. 

Mundy switched the television off, took off his clothes and put his glasses on the night table before slipping in bed. He lied down and kept staring at the object of all his desires. What a handsome man… His salt and pepper hair fell on his brow beautifully, his long eyelashes were poetry and his thin lips, the best delicacy on the face of Earth. 

And he kept staring for a long time until Lucien started frowning. His breath got erratic and accelerated at times. He even started to make worried noises, not words yet, but those sounds with the expression of his worried face told Mundy that the poor Lucien was having a nightmare. He didn't dare disturb him, thinking it would pass but he soon saw droplets glisten on his brow under the faint lamp post light from outside. 

"Hah!" Lucien woke up in a cold sweat and shouted further when he saw Mundy in front of him. When he realised that he had come back home, he dived on his chest and held him, pulled him to himself and breathed in his scent. He clawed in the Aussie with his fingers and stuck himself on him. 

"Hey, luv', I'm back home. Did you have a nightmare?" 

Lucien nodded against his lover's bare chest. 

"Oh, it's alright, I'm here now… Shh…" Mundy hugged him dearly but heard that Lucien's breath wasn't calming down. "You alright?"

Lucien shook his head against Mundy's chest and he frowned. 

"What's wrong?" 

"I haven't slept for the past few weeks. I-I keep on having those terrible nightmares…" Lucien answered, his voice muffled.

"What d'you dream of?" 

"That you leave me, or I'm forced to leave you, or I lose you…"

"Awww, darl', it's all rubbish. I'm here and I'm never leaving you." Mundy let his fingers slide through Lucien's hair and the poor Frenchman nearly cried.

"I missed you so much…" 

"So did I, love, I really did." 

"Non, you don't get it." Lucien rolled to switch on his night lamp and rolled again to face Mundy. 

"Oh, bugger…" Mundy's jaw dropped slightly when he realised how tired his lover looked. "How…?" 

"I told you, I couldn't sleep." 

"What kept you up?" Mundy asked. 

"My longing for you, the fear of losing you and that the last I saw of you is when I dropped you at the airport." 

"My God, Lu'..." Mundy tightened his hug. "Look, I missed you a lot too but c'mon…"

"I'm so glad that you are back." Lucien kissed Mundy's chest and neck repeatedly. "And that you came back to me. Mon Dieu I missed you so much…" 

"Hey, hey, it's fine, I'm here now. You poor thing, I should have called, I'm so sorry…" 

"N-non, it is fine."

"No it's not!" Mundy stuck his big hands left and right on Lucien's head and looked him dead in the eye. "I promised to make you happy and I realise I made you horrendously worried. Look at you! The bags under your eyes are so big you could fit the whole of Australia in there!" 

Lucien smiled, albeit a bit distraught still. 

"How was it with your parents?" He asked. "How did they, uh, react?" 

"Lu', it's past three in the morning, you sure you want to talk about this?" 

"Oui, please, I have wondered long enough." 

"Right, so, uh, I don't really know how to say this but uh…" Mundy's eyes darted left and right as if the words he looked for were lying somewhere on the bed, near them. Lucien's eyes widened as his pupils shrank more and more as he waited for Mundy's next words as if they were gospel. "My parents, they uh…"

"What about them? Are they fine?" 

"Y-yeah, yeah… Well, they're uh, they're here in Paris. They've flown back with me and they want to meet you." 

"What?!" Lucien's entire body melted and he lost control over his limbs. 

"Turns out they had guessed I liked blokes better and… I talked to them so much about you that they wanted to meet you too, if you're ok with that?" 

Lucien's eyes had opened to the size of planets. 

"Oui… Oui of course! Mon Dieu! I am delighted!" He hugged his lover and rolled such that Mundy was now on his back and Lucien on top of him, drowning him in the dearest embrace. He was laughing and crying happy tears at the same time. Lucien stuck his lips on Mundy's and moaned all the anxiety, the apprehension and the doubts away.

  
  



	77. The museum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Idea: the support team was sent on a mission lu and mundy keep flirting with eachother while a very done medic is trying to keep them focus "

"You remember what you have to in there, ja?" Medic asked from the van. 

It was the middle of the night and the Administrator had been very clear. The support classes had to go to that museum at night and retrieve an artefact that was made of Australium.

"Yeah, and you remember what you have to  _ not _ do in my van?" Sniper answered and saw Spy roll his eyes. 

"Not touch anything, ja, now go, and keep me posted." 

"Can you see us clearly, Medic?" Spy asked. 

"Yes, those thermal binoculars work wonders. I should probably include that functionality in my glasses. Imagine how simple procedures would be if one could just see the temperature of the patient in real time! That would surely-"

"Medic?" Spy interrupted him. 

"Yes, yes, I know, sorry." 

Spy rolled his eyes and Sniper smothered his own chuckles.

" _ Bien."  _ Spy looked at Sniper. They were against the museum walls, on the outside. "Sniper, you let me go first, I will unlock the window on the East for you. By which point, you enter and wait for me. Be careful, there will be two guards in there. I will signal you and-"

"I know, I'll take one down and you get the other one…"

"Do you have your equipment at the ready?" 

"Yeah, always."

"Have you made sure you have the tranquilisers instead of the real bullets?" 

"Spook…"

"I must insist. This is your first sneaking mission. One wrong move and we are caught."

"Who's gonna catch us if they're all asleep?" Sniper asked.

"You never know." Spy's eyes flashed in the night and they exchanged a smile. "Alright, I will get in, boost me up, please." 

"Right…" Sniper leaned his back against the wall and got himself into position. Spy approached and put his foot in the Aussie's hands. 

"One, two, and three!" 

Sniper pushed on his feet and thighs and practically launched Spy in the air. He caught the windowsill with the tip of his gloved fingers and slipped in. 

"You in?" Sniper asked and Spy heard him through his earpiece. 

"Oui." Spy started slithering in the dark museum, looking for the control room to power off the building. 

"You put on some weight, Spook." 

"When did you ever carry me?" 

"Last week, Friday night, you ended up more drunk than Demo, I had to carry you to your room." 

"Nonsense." Spy whispered. 

"Nah, you were way past drunk… Also, I'm next to the East window and waiting." 

"I might have been tipsy but I don't remember you complaining that you had to carry me. On the contrary, you enjoyed yourself. Besides, I can see the control room. There is one guard outside."

Sniper heard a muffled gunshot noise through his earpiece. 

"Not anymore, unless you missed your shot, eh?"

"I didn't and I usually don't. You of all people should know that I never miss my target." Spy answered. "I'm going in the control room."

"That's not what you said last night when you were all ' _ Oh, Monsieur Sniper, I miss you, ohlalaaa…'!" _

Spy reloaded his gun with a suppressor as the body of yet another guard fell limply on the floor. 

"First, I never call you  _ 'Monsieur Sniper.'" _

Medic rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

"Uhm, maybe we could focus on the task at hand, Spy and Sniper?" He asked. 

"But we are." Spy put his gloved finger on a button. "Sniper, get ready to come in in three, two, one and, go." 

He pressed the button and all the power in the building shut off. Then, he went to the East wing of the building, bodies falling after him as he slithered along the walls, as silent as a shadow. When he reached the room, he opened the door and the two guards who were at the table, playing a game of cards, raised their heads. 

_ "Bonsoir, Messieurs."  _ He said with the most smug smile before raising his gun and shooting one of them. 

_ [Good evening, Gentlemen.] _

Sniper stepped out of the shadow and shot the other one with his blowgun. Both guards fell to the floor. 

"You took your time, darl'." Sniper taunted.

"Ah, that is a first." Spy's eyebrows jumped but his smirk remained.

"What?"

"I have rarely heard you complain about me taking my time, hm?" Spy winked and turned on his heels to exit the room. 

Sniper followed him closely and smiled while Medic who was still in Sniper's van rolled his eyes again after he saw Sniper's body temperature rise. They walked in the corridors of the museums, priceless paintings, sculptures and knick-knacks all around them. 

"Y'know where we're supposed to find the thing the Admin wants?" Sniper asked. 

"Not exactly. We just know that it is in the East wing, so keep your eyes peeled for any golden object." 

"Well, I got my eyes on another masterpiece, eh…"

Spy turned and saw Sniper staring at his backside. He smirked and turned again to walk as elegantly as a cat, swinging his hips seductively.

"Such a tease you are, Spook." 

"Am I?" He answered arrogantly as he stopped in front of a glass showcase. 

"Tssk…" Sniper joined him and slipped his hand in Spy's back pocket on his backside. 

"Sniper…" 

"What?"

"Your hand."

"What about it?" 

"There are signs everywhere in the museum. Have you read any of them?" Spy asked with a smirk. 

"Nah, I was told to be here to rob the bloody place, not to do some Sunday afternoon tourism, love."

"The signs say  _ 'Do not touch the works of art.' _ So remove you hand, please." Spy teased. 

"Oi, oi, that only works for their stuff.  _ This," _ Sniper squeezed Spy's backside in his palm and Medic saw a jump on Spy's body temperature. " _ This _ is mine, not theirs, so they can bugger off with their signs, I'm keepin' my hand where it is."

Spy chuckled.

"I'd put it somewhere else but Medic would hear ya likin' it. Not really decent, eh?" Sniper added.

"Ahem, Spy, Sniper, please, do you see the artefact?"

"We are standing in front of it." Spy answered as he pointed in the showcase. 

"It's a vase?" Sniper asked. 

"Oui." Spy picked the lock of the glass door and made it slide open. "Here, we have it." Spy put it in Sniper's bag.

" _ Gut _ . Now come back here before the guards wake up."

[Good]

"Don't worry, I prepared those darts. They're powerful enough to put a hippo to sleep." Sniper answered. 

"Does that mean we have some time?" Spy asked. 

"No!" Medic answered. 

"Yeah." Sniper contradicted him. 

" _ Très bien,"  _ Spy took Sniper's hand in his and slid his fingers between his. "Medic, I would recommend you take a break."

[Very well]

"Spy, don't be foolish now, you have the artefact, get out!"

"Take a nap maybe, or listen to some music." Spy turned to Sniper and lazily laced his arms around his neck as he addressed Medic. Sniper smirked, he knew where it was all going just by looking at Spy's half-lidded eyes… 

"Ach… Fine, I'll remove my earpiece too. How long will you take before coming back?" Medic asked and Spy looked up at Sniper. 

"We have a few hours." Sniper answered. 

"Then, count a couple of hours." Spy said, his smirk never disappearing and at that, they all disconnected their earpieces. "I think you did well for your first sneaking mission."

"Well, you could take example then, eh?" Sniper's hands slid and kneaded Spy's sides.

"You have grown quite arrogant,  _ mon amour." _

_ [My love] _

"I learn from the best." Sniper bent down and took Spy by his lips, making him melt in a moan. 

"Shall we have a free tour…?" Spy suggested. 

"Yeah, that first." Sniper answered and they started walking around. 

"And then what?" Spy asked. 

"Oh come on, you're the one who asked for extra time here."

"And you're the one who loaded the tranquilizer darts way too much."

"Yeah, it's almost as if I knew we'd want extra time here, you and me, eh?" Sniper teased.

"Indeed, and why do you think I would want that?" 

"Cause you wanna do  _ it _ in a museum, while we rob it." Sniper answered with a chuckle. 

"Why do you laugh at me? Don't you like the thrill of it?"

Sniper stopped walking and turned to Spy. He pushed him against the nearest wall and put his hands back on Spy's waist. The Frenchman was powerfully sandwiched between the wall and his lover.

"I do, yeah. But you've also been teasin' me too much…"

"Was it effective?" Spy asked as if he didn't already know the answer. 

"You're too bloody sexy when you smirk like that…" Sniper said as he held Spy's chin between his fingers.

"Am I…?" Spy teased further and that did the trick. Sniper bent down and kissed him, crushing him against the wall on all his body. A satisfied moan escaped Spy's lips and as Medic took a glimpse through the binoculars, he saw two very hot and very close bodies. 

He facepalmed and threw the binoculars away before sighing and leaning back on his seat, to take a nap. He turned on the radio to drown what his mind could hear from Sniper and Spy even if his ears couldn't.


	78. Mundy's voice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Random idea! Mundy actually sings to himself alot but since he knows Lucien is a GOD at singing, he only does that when he's sure that Lu isn't in the vacinity. Lucien catches him tho and they kinda have a small duet and Lu comments on how his voice is decent as well. (Love you btw "

"I shouldn't be too long but you feel like you are waiting, please do have lunch without me,  _ d'accord?" _

_ [Ok?] _

Lucien was at his door, about to go out. Mundy came after him. 

"Alright, alright… But please, love, try not to take too long, ok? I don't like having lunch without you."

Lucien raised his head and smiled. 

"I will do my best for you,  _ mon amour. _ Now, you be quiet and don't wreck the place while I'm gone, hm?" He answered, and lightly tapped Mundy's nose with the tip of his index finger. 

The Aussie nodded and bent down to kiss Lucien's lips. 

"See you in a bit."

"Yeah, see ya." 

The door shut and Mundy sighed. He looked around and started tidying up the flat. Lucien had gone to send a few letters and run some other errands. Well, Mundy thought he might as well start cooking too. So he went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. He looked around and took a few things here and there, vegetables, some cream. 

He washed the vegetables and started the radio. Mundy whistled to himself as he started chopping the onions and carrots. The music on the radio switched for one he knew the lyrics to. He wanted to sing along but blushed at the mere thought of it. He looked over his shoulder and shook his head with a smile. 

Mundy couldn't hum or sing, not whenever Lucien was around. And it wasn't because Lucien hated it, no, he had never heard Mundy even whisper the lyrics of a song or hum a tune. Nah, it was because Lucien was so good at singing himself that Mundy felt impressed and never dared sing when his lover was around.

But now that he was gone most probably for a while, Mundy felt more free. And thus, he started singing along to a song that he even knew the saxophone part of. 

_ "I'm never gonna dance again. _

_ Guilty feet that have got no rhythm _

_ Though it's easy to pretend  _

_ I know you're not a fool _

_ Should have known better than to cheat a friend _

_ Than waste the chance that I'd been given _

_ So I'm never gonna dance again, the way I dance with you…" _

He whistled the short saxophone solo that he knew by heart and tilted his head left and right in rhythm. Soon he put a saucepan on the stove, threw a drizzle of olive oil and added the onions. They gently sizzled as he sang again, his entire body dancing along. 

_ "I'm never gonna dance again. _

_ Guilty feet that have got no rhythm _

_ Though it's easy to pretend  _

_ I know you're not a fool." _

Mundy added the carrots and took a wooden spoon to stir it all. Well, that spoon became a part-time virtual microphone too… 

_ "Should have known better than to cheat a friend _

_ Than waste the chance that I'd been given _

_ So I'm never gonna dance again, the way I dance with you…" _

With the music and the sound of the the vegetables happily sizzling in the pan, Mundy didn't hear the front door open and the ex-spy slither in the flat. Of course, Lucien was surprised to hear Mundy sing. He paid attention to not make a sound and crept up to the kitchen more silently than a shadow. He listened to his lover while leaning on the doorframe. He didn't know Mundy could sing. Of course his voice wasn't as used to singing as his own, but the hoarseness of it gave it such a charm. 

Besides, the fact that Mundy was oblivious to Lucien's presence was touching. 

_So that's what you do when I'm not here_ , Lucien thought, _you sing awfully romantic songs alone and you dance in the kitchen_ _while preparing some food…_

Lucien smirked. He thought he would jump in and surprise him, see how Mundy would react.

_ "Tonight the music seems so loud!" _

Mundy froze when he heard that magnetic, velvet voice and spun to see Lucien walking to him like a feline would approach a prey.

_ "I wish that we could lose this crowd! _

_ Maybe it's better this way. _

_ We'd hurt each other with the things we'd want to say!" _

Mundy's jaw dropped and he blushed. If Lucien was singing along, that meant that he had heard him sing with his awful voice, bugger! 

Lucien put a hand in Mundy and another on his waist and just like that, he invited him to dance, wordlessly. Mundy had no choice but to play along, he was paralysed out of shame. So Lucien finished singing but right before the end, Mundy tagged along again and they sang the last chorus as a duet, hand in hand. 

_ "Mon amour…"  _ Lucien pushed himself to the tip of his toes and kissed Mundy. 

[My love…]

"I didn't hear you come in, love." Mundy squeezed Lucien in a dear hug. 

"I know, I made sure of that." 

They rested their foreheads against each other's. 

"I didn't know you could sing." Lucien said. 

"Well, I-I can't really, it's just, y'know, to pass the time, is all." Mundy blushed again. 

"No need to be ashamed or anything. I can train you if you wish to work on your voice. Or if you want to keep it casual, I'm happy for you to sing as freely as you want." Lucien answered. "But why have I never heard you before? We have been living with each other for years now." 

"It's cause you sing like a God, your voice is amazing and I'm just… I'm just a normal bloke…" Mundy let go of his lover and went to stir the onions and carrots again. 

"Mundy…" Lucien laced his arms around him from behind and he rested his head on his back. "Everything you just said was insane. If you want to sing, please just do so. I don't sing like a God, I just have been educated in this art. And finally, you are not a  _ 'normal bloke' _ , you're deliciously charming. I love you." 

Mundy turned off the stove but still pretended to cook for the embrace to last longer.


	79. Sniper is ill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Sick fic comin up! During a weekend Lucien notices how Mundy hasn't been coming out of his van and he gets kinda worried because it was really hot out. He comes to the van only to see a Sniper with a very high fever. Mundy has mood swings as well so he had to force him to Meidc to get treated. Lucien felt bad after and cuddled him to sleep after the check up."

* * *

"How's Sniper?" 

As soon as Engie asked, all heads turned to the one man who most probably knew: Spy. His spoon stopped mid-air and silence fell for a fraction of a second at the dinner table.

"I do not know." He calmly answered, his eyes on the empty chair in front of him.

"Got in a fight with him?" Scout asked and Spy threw him such a murderous glance that it might have been real bullets. "Just askin'."

"Non." Spy simply answered. He didn't like to have his private life exposed and especially not in front of all his colleagues.

"Might wanna check on him, maybe." Engie said. "He was supposed to come get his SMG off my garage, it had a small problem. I fixed it but he never came to collect it." 

Spy nodded and dinner resumed, albeit in the same awkward silence for the next few minutes. 

After dinner, the Frenchman went to Engineer's garage and knocked. 

"Come in! Oh hey, Spy, what can I do for you?" 

"I have come to collect Sniper's weapon. I will go and give it to him." 

"Oh, sure." Engineer rummaged through his tools and metal scraps before he found Sniper's SMG. "I gave it a bit of a polish too, now it shines nicely." 

"Thank you." Spy took it and turned on his heels. 

"Uh, Spy?" Engie called and he stopped sharp. "You sure everything's alright?" 

Spy sighed. 

"I don't mean to bother you. It's just sad to see you like that and I want to help if I can." Engie explained as he wiped his hands on an old rug. Spy raised his eyes from the floor to his colleague but quickly looked away before answering.

"I am not sure. I haven't had news from him in as long as you all did. I might have done or said something wrong, I don't even know. Add to that the fact that he is a solitary man, he has grown to like being on his own… I don't know if I should go and see him or not."

Engie looked up at his friend. 

"I'd say you try anyway. See if he needs anythin'. Worst case scenario he doesn't want to talk to any of us and needs a few days, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like ya." 

"Hm." Spy left the room without adding a word. He walked through the corridor, climbed the stairs back up before exiting the base. He raised his eyes after he closed the door and saw the campervan. The light was off inside, it didn't look like Sniper was there. Yet he could hardly be anywhere else. So Spy walked to the back door and gave a few knocks. 

No answer. 

"Sniper, it's me." 

"Come in." 

Spy pushed the door and entered. The van was indeed dark but his eyes got used to it rather quickly. 

"Engineer has finished fixing your SMG." Spy put it on the counter before his eyes saw a silhouette tightly wrapped in the bed covers. He took a step more and realised that Sniper was giving his back to him. "Sniper?"

"Hm." He answered before coughing a few times.

"Was it me?" Spy asked. 

"What?"

"Did I do or say anything wrong?" 

"No, what are you - achaa!" Sniper sneezed.

"You are sick. Is this why you have locked yourself up here?"

Sniper grumbled as an answer. Spy raised his hand and let it slither between the bars of the bed until he touched Sniper's back.

"Sniper…" Spy gently stroked his back. "I thought you were furious at me."

"Why would I be? You did nothing wrong." Sniper answered before coughing more. 

"I am happy you are not." 

Sniper felt Spy's hand disappear. A moment later, he heard the kettle. He rolled in the bed to see what was happening. Spy raised his eyes to him and got startled by the sight… Sniper's eyes were red, slightly swollen, he had tears running down his cheeks and a longer stubble than usual. 

" _ Mon pauvre amour…"  _

_ [My poor love…] _

Spy got closer and put his gloved hand on Sniper's cheek. 

"Don't touch me, I might contaminate you with whatever's bothering me…" He coughed further.

"Oh…" Spy turned and poured the hot water into a cup that contained a tea bag. "Here, drink this."

"Nah… I tried and it doesn't work."

Spy's distraught face came back. 

"Have you told Medic at least? If you have been ill for days, it might be worth mentioning it to him."

"Nah," Sniper sniffed and took a paper towel. Spy realised that there were lots of them crumpled on the bed, lying around. "I don't want to see that maniac, especially when I'm weak and can't defend myself if he tries anything."

Spy winced slightly. 

"I understand, but he is our medic. He surely will be able to give you something to help you out of this state… Argh, I hate not being able to touch you!" Spy spat. 

Sniper smiled faintly.

"Sniper, please. Let us go and see Medic. If this lasts longer you won't be able to work and that will mean further problems… Oh and screw this, I will touch you with my gloves on!" Spy did as he said and as soon as he put his hand on Sniper's brow, he felt his temperature. "Mon Dieu, you are very hot!"

Sniper smiled faintly and as he blinked, a tear rolled down his cheek. 

"Yeah, well, you should have noticed it earlier, love." 

"I did not mean it  _ that way. _ You have a fever,  _ mon amour. _ Come on, I will help you and we will go to Medic's quarters."

[My love]

"No."

"Sniper-"

"No! I said I don't want to see that freak! Achaa!" Sniper roared and Spy frowned. 

"You have tried curing yourself on your own and that ended up in you being locked up here for absolutely nothing! Nothing! Nothing more than us being separated and driving me crazy because of it!" Spy answered, matching Sniper's angry tone of voice. 

"It drove  _ you _ crazy?! What about  _ me?! _ I'm the one stuck there, cryin' my eyes out, sneezin' and sniffing, not bein' able to eat or do anythin'!"

"Oui and you kept me thinking that you were furious after me! I ate as much as you have in the past few days! Now stop being childish and let us see Medic for your illness!"

"Ugh, you're such a pain in the arse, Spook!"

"Don't make me drag you there."

"As if you could!" Sniper answered and Spy snapped.

"Who carried your body back to the base the other day when the enemy Spy backstabbed you, hm? All the way from your nest to the intelligence room, on my own, your lifeless body in my arms! Was it not me?!  _ Oui,  _ it was! So either you cooperate and you go of your own free will or next time you blink, you'll open your eyes on one of Medic's hospital beds!"

"You bloody… Gnh…" Sniper frowned but he started moving. He got down his bed and Spy covered him with his own jacket. He took a nearby scarf and wrapped it around Sniper's neck. He was all slouched and couldn't carry his weight comfortably. 

"Let me help you." Spy put Sniper's arm around his shoulders and carried part of his weight. "Here are your slippers, put them on, good, now let us go." 

"Spook?"

"What?" Spy looked at his lover, his tired face breaking his heart.

"Don't - ahem - don't leave me alone with Medic… Stay with me, please."

Spy's face relaxed from his anger. 

"Fine, I will. Now, let us go." 

They exited the van and crossed the base without meeting anyone on their way up until they arrived in Medic's laboratory/hospital. Spy knocked at the door. 

"Come in!" 

He pushed the door and Medic's eyes went to whoever stood there. 

"Oh, hallo Spy. Sniper? What is wrong with him?" 

"You are the expert,  _ Docteur. _ We had hoped you could tell us."

[Doctor]

"Follow me, you'll put him on a bed." 

A few moments later, Sniper was on a hospital bed, Medic was inspecting his vital signs and Spy was standing nearby. 

"He has been in this state for the past few days. He has lost appetite and coughs and sneezes all the time. He also has trouble sleeping and is quite feverish." 

"Ah… Let me see…" Medic took his stethoscope and listened to Sniper's heartbeat. "Can you cough, Sniper?"

Sniper obliged a few times. 

"Hm… When did this whole thing start?" Medic asked as he now took a close look at Sniper's red eyes with a small light.

"Three days ago." Sniper answered 

"Anything you changed in your diet or what surrounds you that day?" Medic asked, putting the light away.

"Uh… No… I don't think I did… I had lunch and dinner like you all and uh…"

"You asked me to help you change your duvet for the winter one that day." Spy recalled. "And you also bought a new pillow if I remember correctly. You had complained that yours was very old and I suggested you should get a new one." 

Medic nodded as he backed off and took notes.

"Ah, yeah, was it that day? Can't remember…" Sniper closed his eyes for a moment and tears rolled down his face. Spy took a handkerchief out and wiped them. "Back off Spook, you're gonna catch whatever I have."

"Nein, he won't." Medic answered as he clicked his pen shut and put it back on his labcoat. "Tell me, did the illness get worse and worse over the days?"

Sniper nodded with his eyes half shut.

"I see. This new pillow you bought, can you bring it to me?" Medic asked.

"Spook?" 

"Of course, give me just an instant." 

"Spook, wait." Spy turned. "Doc', give us a sec', please." 

The doctor nodded and took a few steps back, he turned to rearrange some vials on the shelf on the wall.

"What is it?" Spy asked, whispering.

"Please come back fast, don't leave me alone with him too long." Sniper answered between two sniffs. 

Spy smiled and wiped other tears on his lover's face.

"Everything will be fine, do not worry. Hold on to my handkerchief and wipe your tears."

"Bugger, I'm crying a river and I can't even control it. Sorry… But yeah, Spook, please…?" 

Spy nodded and held Sniper's hand under the handkerchief.

"Don't worry. I will run to your van and back, is that fine?" 

Sniper nodded. 

"Run fast, ok?" 

"I will." Spy whispered before turning to Medic and adding out loud, "I shall be a minute."

Medic nodded and Spy exited the room, leaving him and Sniper alone. 

"So, what do I have? Is it serious?"

"I will confirm it in a moment but if I am correct, it is not serious at all. Although, you should have come to me as soon as it started. And if I'm correct, the worst thing you could have done is lying in bed…" 

Sniper frowned with his eyes closed. The light was too much and made his eyes tear up very fast. Soon Spy knocked again. 

"It is me, Medic."

"Ja, come in. Ah, thank you, I will take a sample and have a look under the microscope, just an instant." 

Medic disappeared to the room next door. 

"I ran as fast as I could." Spy let his knuckles brush against Sniper's stingy cheek. His stubble had grown quite long. 

"Thanks, love." Sniper answered his eyes still closed but he could feel Spy's presence right in front of him. Sniper was sitting on the medical bed, his legs dangling in the air and between them was standing Spy. He leaned forward and buried his head against Spy's chest. 

"Oh,  _ mon pauvre amour…" _

_ [My poor love…] _

Spy hugged Sniper dearly. But Sniper pulled his head away fast. 

"Bugger! The suit, I'm cryin' on it, you'll kill me!"

"Nonsense." Spy pulled him back against himself. "I do not care about my suit half as much as I care about having you in my arms."

"Spook?"

"Oui?"

"'m sorry, Spook… I shouldn't have locked myself up…" Sniper mumbled against Spy's chest. "Should've come to you… 'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

"Shhh…" Spy leaned his head down on top of Sniper's. "You have nothing to apologise about. It's fine. Now you know, next time you feel ill, just let me know and follow my advice. If you are ill, you can't think straight.' 

"Spook?" Sniper said, closing his eyes both to rest them but also because Spy's touch felt way too good through his hair. 

"Oui?" 

"You forgive me?"

"For what?" 

"Bein' a mongrel." 

Spy smiled. 

"Of course I do." And he added, whispering, "I love you, Sniper." 

The poor Aussie smiled and wrapped his arms around Spy's waist.

"Love you too… Love you so much, I've missed you, Spook, I really did." Sniper's fingers clawed into Spy's sides.

"So have I, Sniper. But I thought you needed some space, so I gave you some. I understand it because I am the same when it comes to personal space. Sometimes I just need my solitude." Spy still scratched Sniper's scalp lightly as he murmured to his lover. 

Medic opened the door and had to stop sharp at the door, seeing Sniper's head between Spy's arms and them cuddling shamelessly. But he shrugged and came to them.

"My intuition was right. You are suffering from an allergy, Sniper."

"To what?" His muffled voice asked. 

"Acarids. Your pillow is full of them. Now the good news is that with these tablets," Medic gave them to Spy, "and a few precautions, you'll be back to normal in a few days."

"What shall we do,  _ Docteur?"  _ Spy asked as Sniper's head was still cuddling against his chest. 

"Take 3 of these tablets a day for a week, wash all your bedsheets and get another pillow that's anti-acarids."

"I have some I can lend you." Spy said and felt Sniper nod against him. "Thank you,  _ Docteur." _

"No problem. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some paperwork to finish." 

"But of course." Spy answered. 

A few minutes later, Spy and Sniper were in the Frenchman's room, sitting side by side on the sofa. 

"Thanks, Spook." Sniper put his glass of water back on the coffee table. 

"Did you take the pill?"

"Yeah, I just did."

"Is the light too much in the room and you can't open your eyes?" Spy asked.

"A-a bit, yeah… But it's also more relaxing to keep my eyes shut cause otherwise I cry a lot more."

"Let me turn off the lights anyway." Spy answered and did as he just said. "There we are, much better, non?" He sat back next to Sniper who leaned on him. 

"Thanks, love."

Spy smiled. 

"May I make a suggestion?" He asked. 

"Sure."

"Given that you can't sleep in your bed and I have anti-acarids pillows, do you want to spend the night here?"

Sniper blushed. 

"Uh… Here? Here on the sofa?"

Spy kissed his lover's hot brow. 

"Non, not on my sofa."

"Where then?" Sniper asked, confused.

"In my arms. I have missed you terribly in the past few days and I want to catch up all that time."

"We can't do that, love."

"I know, but at least let me have you near me for the next few days, and nights, if you want it too?"

Sniper smiled. 

"O'course I want it. But when you say  _ 'in your arms'...?" _

"I mean sleep with me in my bed. It is large enough, even for someone as tall as you." 

They both smiled. 

"If I could open my eyes, I'd…" Sniper's shyness prevented him from finishing his sentence.

"What would you do?" Spy asked. 

"I think I'd… I'd kiss you."

"You don't need to open your eyes for that." Spy answered. 

"But I can't see where your lips are." 

"Non, but I can."

Spy bent on his side and took Mundy's lips between his. They wrapped their arms around each other and clung there for long minutes that only felt like a mere instant. 

"Hmm… Love you, Spook…"

"I love you too and God, how much I missed you. I want to never let go of your lips." Spy answered. 

"M-me too."

Their lips met again as they dived to lie on the sofa. They legs mingled, their hands touched, pulled and grabbed, and soon, Spy  _ added the French to the kiss _ and Sniper's tears flowed even more with the heat.

  
  
  



	80. French mysteries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Request: Lucien always wanted to tell his feelings to the bushman but is too shy to, so he always spoke it to him in french, knowing the other man couldn't understand. He gets a surprise when Mundy responds to him back in french. Turns out he's been learning french just to understand the Spy, and has returned his feelings for a long time now."

* * *

There was a knock at the door. 

"Come in." 

The door creaked as the tall man peeked in. 

"Hey, Spook."

"Come in,  _ mon beau." _

_ [My handsome one.] _

Sniper entered completely and shut the door after him. Spy knew he didn't understand when he spoke French. Sniper just assumed it all meant  _ 'my friend' _ or something similar, no doubt.

"Take a seat, coffee is almost ready." Spy said as he exited his kitchen with a tray in his hand. 

They both sat on the sofa and Spy put the tray down. Two mugs were on it: a blue one, and a white one with  _ '#1 Sniper' _ written on it in bold red, capital letters. 

"Oh, you got my mug?" Sniper asked.

"From the common kitchen, I hope you don't mind?"

"Nah, it's alright." 

"Thanks. Give me a second, I shall get the coffee."

"Sure." 

A few moments later, they were both enjoying a warm mug of coffee.

"Hm, that's a fruity one you got there, Spook." 

"Oui, indeed. I like this blend of beans and I wanted you to try it. Last week's one was a bit too strong so I thought it might be better to try a lighter, more colourful one." 

"Yeah, tastes really good."

"Oh, by the way, do you have time to stay a bit longer today?" Spy asked.

"Ah, uh, yeah, yeah. I have all the afternoon to myself today." Sniper answered before they both took a sip. 

It was true that very frequently now, Sniper would stay only for a short moment with Spy. He would then excuse himself and Spy would hear the sound of the van driving off. Where Sniper was going was beyond Spy. Maybe he had someone in his life? Someone he preferred over Spy…?

"And talking about colourful, your mug's quite bright." Sniper's voice broke Spy's train of voice.

"Lagoon blue," Spy added, " _ le bleu de tes yeux."  _

_ [The shade of blue of your eyes.] _

They exchanged a smile. 

"Sounds nice when you speak French." Sniper said.

"Does it?"

"Yeah, quite soothing to the ear." Sniper looked down at his mug to not feel Spy's gaze weigh too much on him.

Spy smiled. Sniper was of course oblivious to all the sweet nothings that Spy was telling him, and that was the point. Spy's heart fluttered at the mere sight of Sniper's hat. He loved the man, oui, he loved him romantically, passionately. He was in love with the hat, the glasses, the sideburns and the hoarse voice. But he didn't know how or if he should tell him. So he resorted to this absurd way, to tell him in French such that it got out of his chest but Sniper wouldn't understand. 

"Shall I then treat you to a poem,  _ mon ange _ ? It would be in French, of course." Spy offered.

[My angel]

"Oh…" Sniper's eyebrows jumped. "You know some?" 

"But of course. There is one that became so popular that it got translated into English and transformed into a song. You call it  _ 'Autumn leaves'  _ I think."

"Oh yeah, it's quite well known." Sniper recalled. "Yeah, go ahead, I'm listening."

Spy cleared his throat and shook his head to put himself in the right state of mind. He calmed his breath and soon started reciting.

" _ Oh, je voudrais tant que tu te souviennes _

_ [Oh, I would love for you to remember] _

_ Des jours heureux où nous étions amis _

_ [Those happy days when we were friends.] _

_ En ce temps-là la vie était plus belle _

_ [Back then, life was prettier] _

_ Et le soleil plus brûlant qu'aujourd'hui" _

_ [And the sun more scorching than today] _

Sniper listened carefully. He liked the rhythm and music of it.

_ "C'est une chanson qui nous ressemble _

_ [It's a song that resembles us] _

_ Toi tu m'aimais, et je t'aimais _

_ [You, who loved me, and me, who loved you] _

_ Nous vivions tous les deux ensemble _

_ [We used to live together, the two of us] _

_ Toi qui m'aimais, moi qui t'aimais _

_ [You, who loved me, and me, who loved you]" _

Sniper leaned back and saw Spy close his eyes. His voice was enchanting him. He felt as if he was floating on a cloud, in the sky, Spy's voice carrying him in weightlessness, his ears tickling him on the inside… 

_ "Mais la vie sépare ceux qui s'aiment _

_ [But life separates those who love each other] _

_ Tout doucement, sans faire de bruit _

_ [Very softly, without making a noise] _

_ Et la mer efface sur le sable _

_ [And the sea washes away on the sand] _

_ Les pas des amants désunis" _

_ [The footsteps of broken lovers] _

Spy paused and opened his eyes slowly. Sniper saw his eyelids open, his eyelashes brushee the air softly and his irises finally showed, shining as mysteriously as the sun in the early hours in the morning. His pupils moved and connected with Sniper's. 

"What do you think of the music of it?" Spy asked. 

"It's… It's beautiful… And the way you recited it... You looked like you felt the lyrics. Look!" Sniper rolled up his sleeve. "I still have the goosebumps!"

Spy smiled, with half of his mouth and tilted his head on the side. 

"I indeed felt the meaning of it,  _ mon trésor."  _

_ [My treasure] _

He relaxed and Sniper could feel it in his guts. The power of Spy's voice, only he could use his voice and beguile Sniper like that…

"Should I translate it for you? You might be wondering what I have been talking about, as I imagine it all sounded like gibberish to you." He chuckled. 

"No." Sniper answered and Spy's chuckle stopped sharp. 

He raised a curious eyebrow. 

"You prefer to keep it mysterious?" Spy asked. 

"No, I got it. I mean, well, I understood the rough idea at least." Sniper answered. 

"What?" Spy's surprise was painted all over his face.

"It's about two people who used to love each other and got separated by life." Sniper scratched his head. "And then something about the sea wiping out their footsteps in the sand."

Spy's jaw had dropped. If Sniper had understood the poem, surely that meant that he had understood all the sweet things that he had been telling him…?

"I uh, yeah, all those times I had to go away early from you… I was takin' night classes in uh, in French… I've been working my arse off to try and understand you. I've got tons of books and cassette tapes in the van now, heh…"

"You understand French?" Spy asked, horrified and as red as a brick. 

"Now, yeah, a bit better."

_ "Merde…"  _ Spy put a hand on his mouth and lowered his head.

[Shit…]

"Well, that's not a word they teach us in the classes, but I know what it means." Sniper tried to lighten up the atmosphere. 

"I…" Spy didn't know what to say. Should he apologise? Should he explain himself? Non, doing that meant admitting his feelings to Sniper. He couldn't do that, he wasn't ready, no one was. Spy loosened the knot of his tie slightly and pulled on his collar to get more air. He was sweating bullets. It was a lot, too much, and he slammed a hand on his eyes to hide himself. 

"Spook? You alright?"

"You… You've been understanding me for how long now?" 

"A few weeks only. The words you usually use with me aren't those we started the lessons with so it took me some time to understand.  _ Mon ange  _ is my angel,  _ mon trésor  _ is my treasure,  _ mon beau  _ is my handsome one and I think the bit you said about your mug was uh, well, you compared it to the colour of my eyes…" Sniper chuckled out of nervousness and put a hand behind his neck. 

"I… I'm sorry Sniper. I… It was ridiculous, I just - Argh, nevermind what I wanted, now I need to apologise and please, if you want to leave, I won't hold you back unnecessarily and I am putting an end to all this nonsense" Spy still hid his ashamed eyes behind his gloved hand. 

"Spook…" 

The Frenchman felt a hand on his shoulder. 

_ "Moi aussi,  _ uh, uhm…  _ Moi aussi je te trouve beau." _

[Me too, uh, uhm… I also find you handsome.]

Sniper managed to collect his vocabulary and grammar. 

"I hope I didn't make too many mistakes, eh. I'm much better at understandin' than speaking. But uh, yeah, what I meant was-"

"You also find me handsome?" Spy removed his hand from his eyes and looked at Sniper with wide, surprised eyes.

Sniper nodded as his cheeks turned a bit more pink. 

"You're, yeah, you look good even with the mask on.  _ Tu as… _ uhm…  _ de très beaux yeux… _ uh…  _ très… _ impressive?" 

[You have… very beautiful eyes… very…]

" _ Impressionnant. _ The word for 'impressive' is  _ 'impressionnant'.  _ Do you really think what you just said?" Spy asked. 

Sniper scooted closer to Spy on the sofa and his hand brushed Spy's back. 

"Y-yeah." He looked away and nodded. 

"Sniper, I…"

Sniper's head pivoted and his eyes met Spy's hypnotic ice blue ones. The rest of the sentence was hard to push out. 

"I…" Spy's mouth was too dry and he couldn't even gulp down.

"Me too." Sniper said, his breath gone ever since Spy's eyes stared at him that way.

Their heads moved closer, their eyes moving from each other's to their noses and their lips. They could hear the other's heartbeat through their parted lips.

But their eyes closed. They couldn't see what would happen next. 

Sniper's hand slid down Spy's back and Spy's gloved hands found themselves on the cheeks with the sideburns. 

_ "Je t'aime." _

_ [I love you.] _

It was a whisper, with an English accent. 

"I love you."

And the answer came with a French twist.

Their lips shyly met. They were shaking. But as soon as they did meet, both Sniper and Spy relaxed, and melted into each other's arms. Their hands brushed the fabrics and the skin that they had yearned to hold, their lips went limp on the lips that they had yearned to kiss,  _ for so long…! _

  
  
  
  



	81. Perle's hairy situation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Perle is acting weird, coughing and wheezing which is completely out of character for her. She's also being dramatic about it. Lu and Mundy are concerned and they start bickering about what to do with Perle. Turns out its just a hairball stuck in Perle's throat and she's fine after that, even goes on to steal a sock :3"

"Meeo-eh." 

Spy looked down at his lap. He was reading his  _ Dapper Cadaver _ with Sniper's head leaning on his shoulder, reading with him when Perle coughed mid-meow. 

Perle was originally Spy's best friend, a lady cat of a breed that was way too expensive for the common mortals. And yet Spy didn't have to pay a penny for that fluffy white feline with lagoon blue eyes. She was a stray that had clung to him on a cloudy and dark night years ago now in Paris. He took care of her and then, when times were hard, she took care of him.

But that was all way before Spy finally found what he didn't know he could.

"Sniper?" 

"Hm?" 

"Did you hear her?"

"Yeah. She's been doing that since this morning. I thought it would go away but no… She's been coughin' and wheezing like that all day long."

"She didn't eat much either." Spy added as he scratched her head. Perle was lying on his lap.

"What's wrong with you, pretty cat, eh?" Sniper scratched her back.

She coughed and this time it sounded like she couldn't stop. 

"Mon Dieu…" 

She jumped down out of their lap and walked away, her gait unusually heavy and her head low as she breathed heavily and with difficulty. 

"If you want, we can take her to a vet or somethin', she really scares me now. Listen to her breathe…"

"Oui, it is worrying me too. Can you drive us to town?" Spy turned to Sniper. 

"O'course. Don't want her to stay sick."

Spy looked down at Perle.

"Perle, come here,  _ ma belle."  _

_ [My beautiful one] _

Perle turned to Spy, she took a few steps and collapsed. 

"Perle?!" Spy rushed at her, on his knees. Her eyes were almost completely closed. 

Sniper had jumped out of the sofa and grabbed his vest with his keys, his hat and his glasses. 

"Grab her and come to the van, I'll start it." 

"Oui." 

Spy scooped her off the floor and carried her like a baby in his arms. 

"Perle, Perle,  _ s'il te plaît ma chérie, reste avec moi, ma petite chatte chérie, s'il te plaît…" _ Spy said as he ran to Sniper's van, on Sniper's heels. 

[Perle, Perle, please my darling, stay with me, my little kitty please…]

They hopped in the van and Sniper didn't wait for either of them to fasten their seatbelts to floor it. 

Spy talked to Perle continuously. He petted her head slowly while her eyes slowly opened and closed.

"Sniper, y-you know things about animals, do you think she will make it? She is very unresponsive…"

"I-I don't know… I know basics about beasts and things, but I'm no vet." Sniper wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. "Look love, I'm here with you and I'm pushin' the van over the speed limits to save her." Sniper took Spy's hand in his after he switched gears for the fifth one. 

"Lu', listen, we won't let her go. Pretty cat, Pearl, listen, luv', you'll be alright, you just wait, alright? We'll get you to a doc' and you'll be fine, ok? Pearl, listen, luv', hang on!"

Lucien's hand squeezed Mundy's tighter and they looked at each other with fear and despair in their eyes. 

"It'll be alright, luv'. Don't worry, she's still young and has loads to live still, ok? Lu', you hear me?!" 

"O-oui, oui, Mundy… I… I don't want to lose her… She's everything…"

"You won't lose her, I promise we'll do everything it takes to get her to be fine, ok? Lu', I'll do anything for her, you hear me?"

Lucien nodded and Mundy rolled his window down to let some fresh air in. Lucien's silky hair flew under the fast wind and that's when he realised it: in his rush, he had forgotten to take a mask with him… 

He didn't care in front of Mundy but he hated for people to see his face. He bit his lip. Bah, Perle's life was infinitely more valuable than his privacy! 

"Look, the city!" Mundy shouted as he pointed in front of them. "Now you gotta look in the glovebox, Lu'. There should be a map, unfold it and tell me where the nearest vet is." 

"Oui." Lucien didn't lose a second. He held Perle like a baby against his chest and shoulder with his left hand while he did as he was told with his right hand. "Uhm… Let me see… Ah! Turn right now. Oui… Now go straight, very good… Take it left as soon as you can. Voilà, there should be one in this street." Lucien raised his head off the map and looked around. 

"There it is! I see it. I'll drop you and deal with the van, you rush in, ok? I'll catch up with you in a second, love." Mundy stopped the van right in front of the vet clinic. "Now, go!"

Lucien turned to his lover and pushed his lips on his. 

"Come and join me as soon as you can, please,  _ mon amour." _

_ [My love.] _

"I will, love, now go, please." 

Lucien nodded and opened the van's door before rushing in the vet's. Mundy drove for a bit longer before finding wherever he could park the van. As soon as he did, he slipped out of it and ran back to the clinic. 

He entered and saw a lady who no doubt was a secretary of some sort. 

"Hello, Sir. How may I help? Do you have an appointment?"

"N-no, not really, my best friend came in about a minute ago. He was carrying a fluffy white cat in his arms and-"

"Ah, yes, the emergency? They are with the vet right now."

Mundy's heart didn't stop pumping hard and fast. 

"Where are they?" He almost shouted and the people in the waiting room, that he hadn't cared about so far, jumped on their chairs out of fear.

"Second door to the right in the corridor." The secretary was scared too but Mundy didn't have time to apologise.

He darted to the right door and knocked without being told to come in to push. 

"Lu'?!"

Mundy saw his lover standing, his arms wrapped around himself, biting his nail on his thumb. Perle was on the vet's table and he was examining her. He looked at Mundy and frowned.

"Sir, I'm sorry but-" 

"Non, it is fine,  _ Docteur _ ," Spy cut him, "He is my partner, he was busy parking the car while I rushed in."

"Oh…" 

Mundy shut the door after and stood next to Lucien, wrapping an arm around him to hold him close. 

"So, do we know if she's going to be alright?" Mundy asked. 

"I am still examining her. So far, there is nothing alarming…" The vet answered. "How long has she been like this?" 

"It all started today. I would say we noticed something was odd since the early afternoon. Perle coughed and wheezed quite badly. It sounded like she had asthma, if such a thing exists for cats." Lucien explained. "But it was only about an hour ago that she collapsed and that's what prompted us to drive her here as fast as we could. We live quite far so it took us a while."

"I see…" The vet opened Perle's mouth and lit a small light. "Oh, what is that…? Ah, I think I know what is wrong with her."

Lucien and Mundy both tensed up. 

"Let me try something…" The vet went to fetch a vial. He opened it and put it right in front of Perle's nose. Her eyes snapped open and she stood on her feet in a flash, coughing again and again. "There we go, come on, get it out…!" The vet put the vial on the table and massaged her chest repeatedly as she coughed more until-

"Ah! There we go!" He exclaimed triumphant when she spat out a ball of white hair. "It was only a clump of hair stuck in her throat, nothing to worry about." He explained as he petted Perle who sat down and wrapped her fluffy tail around her as if she hadn't looked like she was on the verge of dying a moment ago. 

"What?" Mundy asked. "But it sounded like she couldn't even breathe?" 

"You own one very dramatic cat, she could breathe without any difficulty." 

Lucien and Mundy looked at each other with question marks in their eyes. 

"Meow?" 

"I have rarely seen a cat put on such a scene." The vet continued with a smile. "Although I must say it does happen sometimes, when she wants a bit more attention. And given the size of that ball of fur, she would have needed help to get it out anyway."

"That's just too much," Mundy answered "We really thought we'd lose her!"

"Is one of you an actor by any chance?" The vet asked. "It has been observed a few times that cats would mimick a behaviour the have seen on their master."

"N-non, none of us are." Lucien answered and Mundy looked at him shaking his head with a smile. 

A bit later, Lucien, Mundy and Perle were back in the van. 

"Such a drama queen you are, I swear!" Mundy said as he started the van.

"Oui, that is hardly acceptable, Perle! You had  _ Papa  _ Mundy drive over all the speed limits for you and for what? A tantrum!"

"Meow!"

"Don't talk back,  _ Mademoiselle!" _

_ [Young lady] _

"If you need us to help you do something or bring you to the vet, you don't need to be  _ that _ dramatic about it." Mundy added.

"Meow?"

"No buts, luv', you really got us scared for you! You heard us and saw us! We thought we'd lose you!"

"Meeow…" Perle lowered her head and laid down on Lucien's lap, curling into one ball of fur herself. 

"We shall accept your apologies only if you promise to not do that again." He added. 

"Promise?" Mundy asked. 

"Meow!" She answered.

"Good, good girl." Mundy patted her head gently and as he did, she grabbed his fingers in her paws and brought them closer to herself, as if she was hugging them. "You're like Lu' in the end."

"What?!" Lucien got surprised.

"All about drama." Mundy teased. 

"I don't react like that!" 

"You just don't see yourself." 

"Mundy!" 

"What?" Mundy turned his head. "I'm just kidding, love. Don't  _ be that dramatic about it."  _ He winked at Lucien. 

"I'll show you drama when we get home!" 

"Oh…" Mundy sounded disappointed and Lucien heard it. He raised an eyebrow. 

"What?" 

"I had hoped you'd show me something else…" Mundy's hand slithered from Perle to Lucien's thigh. 

Lucien sighed with a smile. 

"Will you ever change, Mundy?" 

"Never." 

They chuckled.

"Lu'?" 

"Hm?" Lucien's eyes turned and connected with Mundy. "Love you."

"I love you too, Mundy." Lucien put his hand on top of Mundy's, on his thigh. “Hey, Perle, give it back!”

“What did she do?”

“She stole one of my gloves!” Lucien answered and saw Perle play with it between her paws.

“Well at least we’re sure she’s alright, eh.”

They drove much more reasonably on their way back. However, Lucien and Mundy spent their night all but reasonably.

  
  



	82. Lucien's fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "So, I see a trend where Lucien is always seeming to count the seconds he’s not with Mundy, because he feels he always has a limited amount of time with him be Lucien himself, well... passes away. May I request a fic where Mundy assures him that there is no place Lu can go where Mundy won’t follow? That even if heaven and hell don’t want him, Mundy would follow him into the dark? (Idea came from the song Death Cab for Cutie ‘s “I’ll follow you into the Dark”)"

"Hmmm…" Lucien purred.

"Someone's enjoying themselves." 

Lucien was lying on the sofa, using Mundy's lap as a pillow. He wasn't wearing a mask and Mundy was playing with his hair as he read a magazine. Lucien had closed his eyes.

"It's the way you scratch my head… It is divine…" 

Mundy smiled. 

"I'll teach you if you want." 

"You offer to teach me how to scratch my own head?" Lucien asked, his tone very sarcastic.

"Nah, how to scratch mine like that, you genius."

Lucien chuckled, his eyes still closed. 

"When you massage my head this way, I can't help but think. My brain just runs and runs." 

"What d'you think about?" Mundy put his magazine down. 

"Everything and nothing, as we say in French."

"Spook…?" 

That was Mundy's way of saying that he knew Lucien was at least half-lying.

"Oui, well, fine. I was thinking about us." 

"You're thinkin' about us and you're frowning?" Mundy asked. "Why? Is there a problem?" 

"Non, non." Lucien smiled, his eyes still shut. "Don't worry. It's just… May I share what I was thinking about with you?" 

"O'course." 

" _ Bien. _ It crossed my mind that you are quite younger than I am, oui?" 

"Yeah." 

"Doesn't it seem… odd to you?" Lucien asked. 

"Nah, I mean, I don't really think about it. It just is what it is. Is that what's bothering you?" 

"More or less, oui. It is not bothering me  _ per se _ , but it does raise a few questions."

"What d'you mean?" Mundy asked. 

"Obviously we are both grown men way past young children and in that regard, we are free to choose to live together and love each other…"

"But?" Mundy anticipated. 

"But I do think about… after." Lucien shyly said and his eyelids parted slightly. 

"What, after?" 

"The future." Lucien said. 

"What about it?" 

"Given the age difference, I cannot help thinking that I have met you too late in my life."

Mundy looked down and saw Lucien's eyes looking up but somehow not looking at him.

"I can't chase away the thought that one day I will leave you, Mundy. Not that I want to, but that is what greater powers have decided life to be."

Mundy's jaw dropped. 

"And it puts me in great distress, that thought. One day I will leave you to wake up in a bed half empty, you will have breakfast and wash half the dishes that you used to, you will drive the van and your favourite radio station will have shut down." 

"Lu'..." Mundy interrupted him and Lucien blinked before looking into the deep blue eyes he had fallen for. "Please, love-"

"Have you ever thought about it?" Lucien asked and Mundy sighed. 

Of course he had but he had always dismissed the thought. 

"Yeah, but I don't care."

Lucien raised a curious eyebrow. 

"Yeah, you heard me right, I don't care. What's gonna happen, will happen, there isn't much we can do about it, love. But if we spend our time thinking about it then we're not spending our time together, enjoying ourselves."

Silence fell for a second and Mundy put a hand on Lucien's cheek as he looked deep in his light blue irises. 

"Look, I promise you again as I did before, I won't leave you. I'll go wherever you want to go, I'll always be here for you, Lu'. There's nowhere else that feels alright." 

"Mundy it's worse than that." Lucien put a hand on his eyes. "Every second that I don't spend with you feels like a debt that life is never going to pay me back!" 

"Love…" Mundy removed Lucien's hand from his face. "You're right and I feel exactly the same way for you, ok? But listen to me, Lu', I'll follow you to hell and back if that's what you want… You always say that you love me and stuff but you never understand when I say that _I_ _do too!_ You always think that you love me more than I do you or something, but it's wrong! It's so wrong! It drives me insane sometimes! It's like you hear me talk but you don't believe that I mean it as much as you do!" 

Lucien sat up and turned to face his lover. 

"It's always like that, isn't it? You think that you don't have much time left with me and that's an excuse for you to think that you love me more than I do you but it's wrong! When you're gonna…  _ go away,  _ who's gonna be left with only their eyes to cry? Me! Who's gonna sleep in a cold bed alone? Me! Who's gonna-oh?!"

Lucien had sat on his lover's lap, straddling his thighs. He was now pulling him into a hug. 

"My apologies." He whispered in Mundy's ear.

"Hm.." Mundy grumbled. 

"I… I think you were right. I never really thought you were as sincere as I am." Lucien rested his head on Mundy's shoulder.

"And I am, so much…" Mundy answered, his hands sliding around Lucien's sides. "If your days with me are counted, my days with you are too, never forget that, ok?"

Mundy felt Lucien nod. 

"I love you, Lu' and as I said already, I'd follow you to hell and back if that's only what you want. I want to make you and make us happy, alright?" 

Lucien nodded. 

"Now stop overthinking things and let me kiss you."

“I love you, Mundy.”

“I love you too, Lu’, I really do.” 

They closed the gap between them. Lucien had always been a control freak but loved it when he could just relax and let Mundy lead the dance. He had only recently learnt to let go and would do it only with Mundy, and God how good that felt…!


	83. Spy is drunk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Idea: after a very long night of parenting poor engie is trying round up the other mercs (who are well.. to say drunk is an understatement-) and goes sniper (who like engine absolutely refused to try demo’s “mystery rum”) for help but there’s a problem while snipes would love to help a VERY drunken spy had latched onto him and refuses to move and he’s like “I don’t care if medics on the roof ready to throw solider this is my baby.. he’s.. mine.. all mine.. NOW SHOO-“"

The music was playing loudly that night as the mercenaries celebrated their victories of the week. But that weekend was to be longer than usual as the Administrator had called to say that it would last three days. The mercenaries, instead of their usual drink around a table, decided to throw a party. 

Thus, the music was booming through the speakers as Scout blasted the latest hits. The bass made their chests tremble as they danced and walked close to the speakers. 

"Sniper?" Engie shouted, his hands left and right from his mouth. He was looking for him.

Most of the mercenaries were way past tipsy at the exception of Engie who had refused to try Demo's  _ 'special occasions whiskey' _ and Heavy who could withstand any quantity of ethanol as if it was mineral water. 

Engineer was trying to contain the relative chaos that the party had turned into, and like a single father to most of his colleagues, he felt a little bit overwhelmed. As a result, he was looking for Sniper that he had seen refused Demo's whiskey. The Aussie had received a shipment of Australian beers and wanted to enjoy them and nothing else.

The poor Texan had gone out of the base a few moments ago, looking for Medic and Soldier and had found them on the rooftop, one about to push the other in the snow  _ 'and see how many of his bones would break when he fell in the snow'... _

Of course, Engineer would need some backup to make his drunk friends realise the foolishness of their idea, and that's why he was looking for Sniper.

Meanwhile, in the Aussie's campervan, the atmosphere was very different. Sniper had been joined by the most drunk secret agent he had ever seen. 

"Another cigarette?" Spy offered. 

"If it's free…"

"You are lucky I am  _ this  _ drunk or it would cost you a lot more." 

They were both sitting, side by side, on Sniper's worn out small couch. They chuckled and lit their cigarettes in the van that they had decided against lighting up. There was something cozy about the relative darkness. Spy undid his tie and opened the first two buttons of his shirt. 

"Ooh, the tie's out now, eh? You must feel naked or something." 

"Pff…" Spy giggled. "Almost so, oui. I hope this nakedness does not put you into any discomfort, hm?" He raised a smug eyebrow. 

"Oh, nah… I've seen other necks in my life, eh." Sniper joked.

They shared a chuckle but Spy noticed that Sniper's eyes stayed on his neck for a while. 

"I don't doubt it, and yet you stare."

"It's cause of your scar, there, sorry." Sniper averted his gaze. 

"Ah, oui. There used to be a time when I had more hickies and lipstick marks than scars on my skin. But this time is long gone."

"Really?" 

"Are you doubting that it was the case or that it ceased?" 

"Nah, that it stopped. You're a nice bloke. I'm sure sheilas fall at your feet like there's no tomorrow."

"Oui, it is true that I cannot complain in that regard. Although I must correct what you said."

"Oh?"

"Not only women seem to do that, I have my successes regardless of people's sex." Spy said with a smirk before taking another sip. 

"Always humble, aren't we?" Sniper answered. 

"Non, but always honest." 

"That's rich comin' from you, Spook!"

Spy laughed. 

"What d'you think about the beer?" Sniper asked.

"Almost unbearably fruity. I didn't know you were one to like it that way, Bushman."

"Oh, I usually don't." They took a sip. "It's just that one brand from home."

"From Australia?" Spy asked. 

"Yeah. Received them a few days ago, now." 

Spy looked at the bottle and Sniper chuckled as he saw him squint and stare, struggling to decipher the inscriptions. The Aussie turned a night lamp on. 

"Here, maybe you'll read it better." 

"I quite like the darkness. However, if the letters could stop dancing and wiggling around, that would help!" Spy complained and Sniper understood that he was just too drunk to be able to read. 

"I'll read it for ya." 

"Thank you." 

"It says that it's been produced in - oh?"

A knock interrupted Sniper's sentence. 

"Ooh, you were waiting for some late night company?" Spy mocked. 

"Nah." Sniper smiled.

"You sure?" Spy raised an eyebrow. "I can leave if needs be."

"Spook, quit it…" Sniper rolled his eyes and went to the door, seeing Spy's smug smile from the corner of his eye.

He opened the door. 

"Oh, hey Engie."

"Sniper, uh, could you spare a minute to help me out?"

"What's wrong?" 

"Solly and Sawbones are on the rooftop and Medic wants to push him off."

"What?!" Sniper's eyes snapped wide under the surprise. 

"He's dead drunk and thinks it's the right moment to try new experiments…" 

"Bloody hell…"

"Can you come and help me convince them down?"

"Uh-"

Before Sniper could answer, he felt two hands lace around him from his side and soon, Spy appeared next to him. 

"I am sorry, Labourer, but you have knocked on the wrong door. The Bushman is already in company."

"Spook, he's not askin' to spend the night here, it's just that-"

"Then why is he still here? Shoo…!" Spy accompanied the words with a gesture and Sniper rolled his eyes. 

"Spook, please, we really need to get them out of the rooftop before they -"

" _ God bless Americaaaa!"  _ A shout from the very recognisable Soldier echoed in the snowy desert before there was a thud that they couldn't hear from that distance. 

"Well, it seems it is too late, Engineer. Now, if you don't mind, some of us were spending a delicious night here…" Spy added. 

"Look Sniper, now I'd really need someone to help me get him to the medicbay, no doubt that Solly did break a few bones." Engineer put his hand on Sniper's forearm to grab him but received a slap from the Frenchman on his hand. 

"Non!" He protested and Sniper smiled. "This Bushman is mine for the night. Goodnight." 

Sniper shrugged with a smile and Engie finally rolled his eyes with a smile. 

"Alrighty then, guess I gotta find Heavy…" 

Spy nodded and shut the door himself, still clinging to Sniper's side. 

"Can I at least go back on the couch?" The Aussie smiled. 

"Only if I can sit with you." Spy answered. 

"Right, let's go, Spook." 

Sniper walked more awkwardly than ever before with Spy clinging on his side. 

"Gosh, Spook, you're so clingy when you're drunk…" He sat down and Spy took the liberty of sitting on his lap and laying his head on Sniper's shoulder. 

"Is it a bad thing?" 

"I-I mean… You're drunk…"

"Oh, oui, way too drunk. It is more than likely that tomorrow I will forget that any of this happened at all." Spy answered, snuggling against Sniper.

"M-mate, look, uh…" Sniper looked down and saw that Spy's eyes were shut. "Ugh, of bloody course you're gonna fall asleep on me…" 

He sighed and silence fell. Sniper felt Spy's ribcage inflate and deflate regularly against his own. He instinctively wrapped his arms around him but then realised that he shouldn't. Spy was drunk, and as such, he was not thinking straight. Sniper however was sober, a bit happy from the beers, but he was very much the master of his acts and words. He shouldn't take advantage of his friend and so he decided against doing anything. He just leaned back slowly, Spy's head and body never disconnecting from his, and looked through the thin window. 

The bass from the speakers were still booming from the base and Sniper could hear them very clearly. For a second he thought back about Engie and hoped he managed to find Heavy and that everything had solved itself. But then, Sniper pondered. What would have been his answer if Spy hadn't said no to Engie? 

Sniper's eyes went down to Spy's silhouette. 

Of course he would have preferred to stay with Spy. And the way he had clung to him… He still was technically! And of all the places Spy had chosen to fall asleep and defenseless, Sniper's shoulder had seemed best for him. 

How on Earth could that be? Spy was distrustful. He never would give his trust to anyone and yet there he was, sleeping on Sniper's chest. Did that mean that he…?

"Spook… Uhm… I know you're asleep and, well, more drunk than I've ever seen you be before. But uh… Just so you know, even if you won't cause you've fallen asleep on me… anyway, I'm getting lost. Point is, I'd have tried to send Engie away to stay with you. I know it's bloody ridiculous. I don't know. I just like the night we're spending together. And uh, I guess I can say it now but if you weren't drunk, I'd have put my arms around you." Sniper chuckled. "It's almost hard resistin' it, eh. But you're drunk and maybe you wouldn't want it if you were sober. So I won't do anything. I'll just… I'll just enjoy being your pillow."

"And you are a comfortable one, Bushman." A voice with a French accent answered.

"Shit, I woke you up?" 

"I never was asleep." 

"What?" 

"I was just resting." 

"You never were sleepin'? So what were you doing? I thought you sort of passed out on my shoulder."

"I didn't."

"Spook, I'm so confused. What the hell were you doing?" 

"Cuddling? Hugging? Snuggling? Looking for physical comfort? You name it." Spy answered and Sniper blushed. 

"So you heard me?" 

"Oui, I did." 

"Ah… Right, well… Thank God you won't remember a thing tomorrow when you'll have sobered up, eh?"

"Ah oui, your reasoning would work if not for one thing."

"What?" Sniper asked.

"I am  _ not _ drunk. Never have been. In fact, the last time that I was drunk to that extent was a long time ago now."

Sniper froze on his seat. 

"Wait… Why did you pretend then? And why tell that you were pretending?" 

Spy chuckled against Sniper's chest. 

"I pretended so that you would let me lie against you without you wondering too much about it. And I stopped to pretend because, very much to your honour, you don't want to hold me because you thought I was drunk."

Sniper frowned. 

"You're complicated, you know that?"

"Only as much as you make me." Spy answered. 

"But wait, if you lied about being drunk and all… What you said to Engie, was it true?"

Spy raised his head off Sniper's chest to look him in the eye. 

"Oui, it absolutely was. I find this night absolutely delicious in your company and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but against you. Besides, I really think what I said to Engineer."

Sniper gulped down audibly as he recalled Spy calling him  _ his. _

"The good news is that, because I am not even tipsy, you can hold me if you want." Spy added and Sniper's arms obeyed before his mind consciously made the decision. "Much better,  _ merci." _

Spy snuggled against Sniper's chest. 

"I don't even know what I'm doing…" Sniper said.

"You are enjoying the moment." Spy answered. 

"N-no… I mean… I don't know what I'm thinkin', what's happening, what…?"

"Which is exactly why I pretended to be drunk. Were I sober, you would wonder too much and not just do what your heart tells you." Spy was lightly scratching Sniper's chest, on his heart and he felt it start racing. "Shhh… Relax. It is just you and me." 

"Yeah, well…" 

"Do I impress you that much?" Spy asked and Sniper's silence was an answer on its own. "Sniper…"

"I know. That's me… I'm like that. Sometimes I just… I just don't know what to say and I just stay silent... awkwardly."

Spy chuckled from the bottom of his throat. 

"Do not apologise. I think it is part of your charm." 

Their eyes met in the dimness of the van, under the light of the night lamp. 

"Really?" 

"Oui. But it does raise questions and doubt, your shyness." 

"What d'you mean?" 

"I never know if you're holding me because you really want to, or simply because I asked you to and you are too shy to refuse." Spy explained. 

"Nah, Spook." Sniper shook his head. "I'd never let a bloke sit on my lap like that if I… I mean, if I didn't agree to it."

"You mean if you didn't want it too?" 

Sniper shyly nodded, a bit embarrassed to admit such a truth. 

"I am delighted to hear that you want it too." Spy leaned again on Sniper's chest and lightly scratched it through his gloves. "You are warm and very comfortable. And that distinct scent…"

"I-I can change my cologne or something if you don't like it…" 

"Non, non, on the contrary. It smells of everything I abhor, it is cheap, so strong that it could bring tears to my eyes and yet!" Spy closed his eyes. "I couldn't possibly want to smell anything else, for I know that if I do smell it, it is because you are nearby." 

"Spook, just for a second, please be honest, ok?"

"I am."

"How can I be sure? You looked dead serious when you told me you were drunk, you even struggled to read the beer and stuff… I don't know!"

Spy raised his head. 

"Shall I show you?" He asked. 

"Show me what?" 

"That I am sincere." 

"Yeah, well, I don't know how you're gonna do it but yeah, go ahead." 

Spy removed his gloves and put his hands flat on Sniper's cheeks before putting his forehead against his. 

"Sniper… Please believe me." 

Sniper's jaw dropped as he saw him close his eyes and a second later, he felt something on his lips, something soft, something thin and warm and - oh - it became slick. 

Sniper rolled up his eyes before he closed them, his entire weight on the sofa and his whole attention on Spy's lips dancing with his own.

  
  
  



	84. The honeymoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "May we have the homeymoon then?"

"Ah, you are finally awake, good morning, you lazy kangaroo." 

Mundy dragged his feet to the kitchen and dropped himself on the chair next to -

"Oh wait… I still have the ring…" He said, more to himself than to Lucien, staring at his own hand hovering in front of his eyes. The feeling of the silver ring between his fingers was still new.

"Oui, you are supposed to keep it for as long as we are both breathing on this Earth, you know?" Lucien joked as he poured the coffee for Mundy. 

"Wait… We're really  _ married?" _

"I really hope you were fully aware and convinced when you said  _ 'Je le veux'  _ yesterday…" Lucien teased.

[ _ I do.] _

"Oh, love!"

"Oof-Mundy!"

Mundy had pulled Lucien off his chair and made him sit on his lap, cuddling him like he would a teddy bear. 

"We're really married!" 

"Oui, oof! Mundy, too strong, too strong!"

"Oh, sorry…" Mundy eased his hug on his now husband. 

"Merci, mon Dieu, your hugs could kill me!"

"I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to hurt you…" 

Lucien smiled and put his lips on Mundy's, his fingers sliding between his brown locks of hair. Mundy leaned back on his seat completely. 

"Hmmm… I'm the happiest man alive, darl'." 

"We are two." Lucien answered as he laced his arms around Mundy's neck and leaned his head on the Aussie's shoulder.

"So…" Mundy took a sip of his coffee, an arm still around Lucien's waist. "Any plans for today?" 

"As a matter of fact, oui, I do have a plan for today and you are part of it."

"As I should, eh. This ring here says it!"

They exchanged a smile and Lucien grabbed a toast. He spread butter on it and got it close to Mundy's lips. He bit into it enthusiastically.

"Hm-mh!" 

"I guess that was a thanks."

Mundy nodded with a smile.

"Mundy?" 

"Yeah?" He put his mug down for a second. 

"Do you know what comes after a wedding?" 

"Oh yeah, yesterday night was a real treat, love. And it lasted for so long… I think it's the best night I've ever spent with someone, ever."

"Well, first, I indeed hope it was. But that wasn't what I meant,  _ mon amour. _ What comes after a wedding and the wedding night?" 

"Uuh…" Mundy's eyes shot up as if he was visibly searching through the drawers and cupboards in his head. "Being happy?" 

Lucien chuckled at how clueless his husband was. 

"I meant the honeymoon,  _ mon amour." _

"Oh, ah… I see… Wait, so what?" 

"Put your hand in the pocket of my gown." Lucien said and Mundy obeyed. He pulled two plane tickets. 

"What the hell are you doing with those?" 

"I am taking you on a honeymoon. Our honeymoon." 

"What?! Where?!" Mundy tried to open the tickets to see but Lucien stole them off his very fingers. 

"You will see when you arrive there." Lucien answered and as Mundy tried to get his hands on the tickets, he got them further still. "Uh, uh, uh! No need to try. This is a surprise. We are due to leave Paris today, so let's prepare a suitcase and off we go." 

"When is the flight exactly?" 

"In barely enough time for us to make it!" Lucien said, climbing down his husband's lap. "Now, follow me!" 

They got a change and Lucien noticed that Mundy was standing in front of his pile of clothes in the cupboard, doing nothing else but staring and frowning. 

"Something is the matter? We don't have much time,  _ mon amour _ ."

"No I… I just don't know what to wear, I mean, are we going somewhere hot or…?" 

"Put on whatever you would usually." Lucien said.

"Well, that means poloshirt…"

Before they exited the flat, with their suitcase ready, Lucien grabbed Mundy's wrist and pulled. 

"What?" 

" _ Embrasse-moi." _

_ [Kiss me.] _

The next thing he knew, Mundy's lips were pushed by Lucien's but when he withdrew, the Frenchman removed his aviator glasses and replaced them with black ones. He also put a white cane in Mundy's hand and he put earplugs on him. 

"What the hell?!"

Lucien removed one, just for Mundy to hear him. 

"Those aren't sunglasses, I can't even see the tip of my bloody nose with them!" Mundy exclaimed.

"That is the point, I will reveal where we are when we get there, and if you dare even just think about removing those earplugs or the glasses, I swear I will make you eat them all."

"Wait, so I'm blind and deaf until we get there?!"

"Correct." Lucien put the second earplug and guided his husband outside. 

About an hour later, they were both in the airport. Mundy had felt the sun on his skin and the seats of the taxi they went on. But God knew where they were going… Later still, he passed security checks and boarded the plane. Lucien was next to him, he could smell his expensive perfume. Mundy bent on his side, looking for Lucien's ear and whispered.

"Lu'?"

"You are supposed to be deaf and as a consequence, you cannot know how to speak, Mundy." 

"I love you." 

Lucien's eyes snapped wide under the surprise but then, his usual serene smile came back. 

"So do I." 

Mundy heard the muffled noises of the captain of the plane speaking, then the safety instructions. After that, he felt some fabric on his hand, Lucien's jacket no doubt. He was about to put it between his legs but Lucien held it back. Mundy was confused… until he felt his husband's hand slither under the jacket and on Mundy's thigh. They held hands, out of everyone's sight and Mundy blushed under the glasses. Their fingers slid between each other's, and Mundy relaxed. Wherever Lucien was taking him, he had made absolutely sure it would be one hell of a surprise. 

"Lu'?"

"What?"

They whispered again. 

"How long's this gonna take?" 

"We have about eight hours left, here, lean your head on my shoulder and you get some sleep." 

"Eight hours?!" 

"Oui, and don't be so loud, half of the plane is already asleep."

"Bloody hell… Alright, I'll sleep. You wake me up when we get there, eh?" 

"Non, I will go and enjoy my honeymoon with the next kangaroo man I will see." Lucien teased. 

"You…"

"Shh… Now, sleep." 

Mundy leaned his head on Lucien's shoulder and did as he was told. He spent the rest of the flight sleeping as deeply as a log on his husband's shoulder.

"Mundy?" 

Eight hours later, the Aussie opened his eyes before realising that yes, the glasses were still there and he still couldn't see a thing… 

"Are you awake,  _ mon amour?" _

"Yeah… Did you sleep?"

" _ Un peu.  _ Let me guide you out…"

_ [A bit.] _

And then stairs and long walks and lifts, again and again until finally Lucien stopped and Mundy could feel the heat of the air outside of the airport. 

"We out?"

"Oui, we are." Lucien removes Mundy's earplugs. "Mundy?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Do you have any idea where you are?" 

Mundy listened carefully. Cars passing by, buses… He sniffed as it was the last sense he could use. 

"Doesn't smell of the seawater too much, so not somewhere along a coast…"

"Anything else?" 

"It's hotter than Paris so someplace south?"

"Indeed, it is further South from France altogether. Anything else?" 

"No, not really…"

"Mundy, there are two people in front of you. No, don't take your glasses off. Can you guess who came to the airport for you?"

"I don't even know where I am!"

"Fine, give me the cane now.  _ Bien.  _ And now, remove your glasses."

As he did so, Mundy's eyes snapped wide. 

"Bloody hell!"

"Welcome home, son." 

Mundy threw himself in his parents arms under Lucien's loving eyes. 

"Are we in Australia then?" 

"Oui, we are."

"Are we going home?" Mundy asked his parents.

"Well, Micky, your friend here told us you had something to tell us that was very important and that you should be the one deciding if you wanted to go home or stay somewhere else." Mundy's mother explained. She was a short lady, quite old but her face radiated kindness and benevolence at her son. 

"Oh, uh, what d'you want me to tell them, Lu'?" 

"Well, maybe tell them who I am." 

"You organised all this and you didn't tell them?!" 

"Non, I just said I was a dear friend of yours and that we worked together for Mann Co."

"Tell us, Micky." Mundy's father insisted as he put a hand on his son's shoulder. He was old too, which wasn't surprising. But he was tall and thin, and wore a pair of glasses. His hair had almost completely gone off his head and the few locks that remained were grey and white. 

"Well, I don't know how to say this… Mom, Dad, this is Lucien, I call him Lu'. He uh… He and I, we… I mean…"

"Oh my God! Congratulations, Micky!" Mundy's mother came to her son and wrapped her arms around his stomach, her son was so much taller than her!

"What? What is it?" Mundy's father asked. 

"Mike!" Mundy's mother answered. "Look at his hand, haven't you noticed?"

"Oh, bugger!" Mike's eyes went to Mundy's ring finger and it snapped in his head. "Congrats, son! Come here!" The embrace repeated. 

"But wait, Lu', you said you were takin' me to our honeymoon…?"

"It cannot be a honeymoon before you tell your parents about us." Lucien simply answered. "I know they count a lot for you and you have been missing them." 

"Oh, Lord…!" Mundy was panting, still looking keenly at his parents as he had missed them a lot. "But wait, what's the plan now?"

"I have a hotel room booked for us somewhere you will appreciate, but if you want to spend time with your parents first, it is up to you." Lucien said. 

"I'm quite tired actually…" Mundy turned to his parents. "D'you mind if I come and see ya tomorrow or somethin'? I just need a shower and some sleep." 

"Of course not, Micky." Mundy's mother said as she pushed herself to the tip of her toes and stroked his cheek. "You go and get your rest. And if it's your honeymoon, then you should think of you two first."

"And you're here in Australia now, son," Mike added, "so it'll be easy to see each other. Come with the mister tomorrow, we'll have a good chat and I'll ask your mum here to bake us somethin' nice."

"Mike, the doctor said you should watch your sugar…" Mundy's mother said. 

"Caroline, it's not for me, it's for Micky!" Mike winked at his son as if his wife couldn't see him and they all smiled. 

"Right, we'll leave you here. See you…!" Caroline concluded, as she hugged Mundy and Lucien before turning away. Mike shook their hands and left. 

Lucien and Mundy went to get a taxi and were on their way to the hotel Lucien had booked.

"You're a lunatic, Lu', an absolute mad bloke.” Mundy said to his husband.

"I love you too,  _ Micky."  _ Lucien answered, with a smirk. “I didn’t know you had a nickname.”

“Only my parents use it.”

“I shall not use it, don’t worry.”

“You could if you wanted.”

“Non.”

“Why?”

Lucien chuckled before answering. 

"I can't call you the same as your parents do. Besides, I don't like  _ 'Micky' _ ."

"Oh?" Mundy's disappointment was audible. 

"It sounds too English." Lucien added with a wink. 

"Pfff…" Mundy chuckled. 

The taxi stopped and Mundy exited it. He raised his head following the impressive column of glass windows of the building in front of him. 

"Woah… Is that the place?" Mundy's head was still looking up, his jaw open in awe. He removed his glasses as if to see better.

Meanwhile, the taxi driver had given them back their luggage and drove off, leaving the two men on the pavement. 

"Oui. This is the hotel,  _ mon amour,  _ why?" 

"It's bloody massive!"

"It's only the best I could find. Come along." Lucien started moving. 

"Uh-wait, the suitcase!" Mundy said and Lucien chuckled. He got closer to him and took him by the hand. Mundy blushed so hard he felt the sweat drip instantaneously. Lucien wasn't one to care about what people would say around him, the odd looks they would receive.

"Don't be ridiculous,  _ mon chaton. _ Let's go."

[My kitten]

Mundy entered the hotel confused and dragged by his husband's hand. After stopping at the reception to get their keys, they hopped in a lift. Mundy wanted to talk to Lucien but the hotel employee in his red and golden uniform standing there with them prevented him from doing so. 

A few minutes later, they were finally in their room. 

"Lu'... What the hell is this…?" 

It wasn't a room at all. It was a suite. It was a house. It was a palace. 

"Their best suite." He simply answered with a smirk. 

Mundy took his time looking at every wall, every bit of ceiling and all the furniture. It was all extremely modern and classy. The colours were kept to black and white with touches of grey and beige. 

"Lu', what the hell is this place…?" Mundy repeated going in the bathroom and exiting again. 

Lucien observed him coming and going, a smile on his lips. 

" _ Mon amour _ , it will soon be dinner time. Are you hungry?" 

[My love]

"I… I don't know…" Mundy pushed the two doors for the living room and gasped. 

"What the-?!"

Lucien walked behind him and stopped next to him. 

"You like the view? We are on the last floor of the hotel." Lucien took Mundy's hand in his and they walked to the windows. Well, the entire wall on that side was windowed, such that they could enjoy the sight of the entire city in front of them. 

"It's bloody gorgeous…" Mundy put his fingertips on the glass. 

The sky was getting darker but the line at the horizon was still shyly golden. Lucien snuggled against his husband, and Mundy wrapped an arm around him. 

"So, how do you like this surprise trip so far?" Lucien asked. 

"Look luv', it's… It's just wild… It's a lot to take in… Two days ago I was still single. Now I'm married and on the other face of Earth, at the top of the tallest building I've ever been on…"

"You are forgetting the time I took you to dinner in the  _ Tour Eiffel." _

"Ah, was it higher?" 

"Not the restaurant, but when we took the lift and went at the very top, oui, we were higher than this." 

"Ah, I see… But still, it's a lot to take in." 

"May I make a suggestion, to soothe your nerves?" Lucien looked up and Mundy nodded. 

"Yeah, sure." 

"What about a warm bath together?"

Mundy's shoulders sank as even the thought of it made him relax.

"Yeah, that'd be good I think." 

Lucien turned on his heels and a few seconds after, Mundy could hear the water running. 

"Still in front of the window?"

Mundy turned and saw his husband next to him, wearing nothing but a red bath robe. 

"Yeah, I got lost in thought a bit, sorry." 

Lucien smiled. That was always a side of Mundy that he had liked, the daydreamer, the young boy who used to watch the stars at night and grew up to still watch his surroundings with the same innocence, the same naivety.

"Here, go and get yourself comfortable." Lucien handed him his bathrobe. "I'll be in the bath waiting,  _ d'accord?" _

_ [Alright?] _

"Right." 

Lucien headed back to the bathroom. The water had risen to a reasonable level. He touched it and the temperature was delicious, if slightly hot, but it would cool down, so that was perfect. The red robe slid to the floor and he slipped in.

Soon, the door opened again. 

"Oh, wow… You can't just prepare a simple bath, can you?" Mundy asked with a smile.

"It is simple. A few candles, bubbles, a few rose petals… What is hard in this? Now please, turn the light off and join me. I have missed you terribly."

Mundy flipped the switch off. 

"You've missed me? I haven't been away for long…" His bathrobe slid down and Mundy almost heard his husband gasp in anticipation. 

"It felt too long. Come here." 

Mundy slipped in the water, delicately breaching through the foam of scented bubbles and sat between his husband's legs, leaning his back on Lucien's chest. 

"Water's hot." He said. 

"Too hot?" 

"Nah, you're too hot, luv'." 

Lucien smirked. 

"So are you… Hmmm…" Lucien purred as he closed his eyes to enjoy the embrace with his husband.

"Lu'?"

"Hm?" 

"Thanks."

"For what?" 

"All this." 

"It's our honeymoon, it's thanks to  _ us _ that this is happening. Don't thank just me." Lucien answered as his hands slithered around Mundy's torso, hugging him dearly. 

"Hmmm… Still, luv'... You're amazing."

Lucien smiled. He knew he was the type to spoil his lover and it was all the more so true with his now husband. He let his hands roam on Mundy's sides, his chest, through the thick short hairs there, underwater. He felt his chest rise and fall slower and more amply. Mundy took Lucien's left hand and guided it to his mouth. He kissed his knuckles almost reverently, his eyes closed for each little proof of affection. Lucien's head lolled back and rested on the edge of the bath. He was drowning in the delicateness of Mundy's pecks.

"Oh, Mundy…" He cooed.

Mundy slid his strong fingers between Lucien’s and let their hands sink through the bubbles and underwater again. 

"Love, I… Your hands… If you continue…" 

Mundy was struggling to speak. Lucien's right hand was caressing his thighs, his inner thighs, and it tickled him in a way that didn't fail to arouse him. The Frenchman was also lapping gently at Mundy's neck, on the side, and he felt the Aussie clench his hold on his left hand. 

"What will happen if I continue…?" Lucien whispered right in Mundy's ear and left a peck on the shell of his ear. Mundy rasped.

"L-love… You turn me-a-ah..."

Lucien snickered evilly as his hand closed between Mundy's thighs. The Aussie's breath broke out of any sync as he frowned, struggling against a body that started to betray how he craved more of his husband. 

"Let us dry ourselves and move to the bedroom,  _ mon loup…" _

_ [My wolf…] _

The Australian night was spent very hotly, sweat dripping off of them as they threw away all the bed covers. The night was hot, they were steaming and they couldn't have dreamt of a better way to spend their honeymoon, clawing into each other's skins.


	85. Spicy time gone wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Okay how about spicey times gone wrong: like they were in the middle of the spice somewhere public for some reason (cause they livin on the edge like that-) lets say medicbay and of course medic walks in and just stares at them like “are you f[bleep] serious rn in my bay, on my desk, near my stuff, in front of Archimedes... and is that my vile your hol- what are you even gonna do with tha- you know what I’m f[bleep] done”"

"Oh, Spook… We'll regret this… He might come back any second…" Sniper panted.

"Then you had better make it quick…" The voice with the deliciously alluring French accent. 

Sniper was opening his masked lover's vest and jacket eagerly and spoke between two kisses, when his lips slid off of Spy's. He pushed him on Medic's desk. The German doctor was out to work with Engineer on a few modifications of his medigun. Meanwhile, Spy and Sniper wanted to try something new, or rather,  _ somewhere _ new. 

"You're bloody gorgeous…" Sniper splayed his hands on Spy's chest, his clothes yet still on his shoulders but his bare skin facing the Aussie directly. Sniper pushed him to sit on Medic's desk. 

"Hmmm…" His lips flew to Spy's while he felt his legs wrap around his waist. Spy's back hit the desk as he reciprocated Sniper's eagerness with his own irresistible slithering tongue, languorously dancing with Sniper's. Spy's hand slid down and found Sniper's belt. He undid it while Sniper threw his vest away. He fumbled with Spy's belt but soon opened it and without wasting a second, he slid the trousers and his underwear away. 

" _ Mon Dieu…"  _ Spy rasped at the cold air now hitting his eager private parts.

"Bloody hell, I want you so much…"

"Wait, Bushman, I haven't had time to prepare myself."

Sniper's eyes darted left and right around him until they fell on some petroleum jelly on a shelf. He pulled his trousers up and walked to grab it. 

"I'll get you ready, luv'..." He opened the jar, on the desk, right next to where Spy was lying, and took a generous amount between his index and middle finger. His eyes raised to Spy and saw the handsome man laying ready for him, his pupils wide with lust. "Oh, God…" The sight seized him and he bit his lower lip as he breached Spy's most intimate entrance with a finger. 

"Awh- _ oui _ … Oui, Sniper, argh, come here…" Spy grabbed Sniper's arm and pulled on it. Sniper bent down and kissed his lover in rhythm with his fingers working him open. "Give it to me, Sniper, please, argh…"

"Sure you're ready?" Sniper asked. 

"Oui!" He almost yelled and Sniper's member twitched at how much Spy wanted him. Without delay, Sniper did as he was told.

"Oh  _ mon-nnh!"  _ Spy rolled his eyes in bliss and bit his gloved hand to half smother his cry. It turned into a moan. 

"God, you feel amazing…" Sniper's hips started rolling but soon hit an almost unforgiving rhythm as they both grunted, their faces flushed red. Sniper took Spy's aching masculinity and stroked it in rhythm as Spy's legs were resting on the Aussie's shoulders.

"S-Sniper! Oorgh…! God, never stop, please!" Spy couldn't dig his nails in his lover's skin which frustrated him greatly, he moved his arm and in his haste, he swooshed the jar off the desk and it fell on the floor. 

"God, Spook, oh, I'm close!" Sniper was clawing almost painfully on Spy's hips.

The door opened and Sniper froze in place, deep inside his lover. Medic was standing there, a medigun in his hand. He dropped it under the surprise.

"What the…? Ach, don't tell me that each time I'm out of my office, you do it here?!" He barked. His eyes scanned the scene and saw the jar on the floor. "And you even helped yourself to-" He snapped. "I am done… I am so done with you two! I give you 10 minutes to finish and when I come back I want everything back as it was and you out of here!"

"Give us 15 minutes then." Spy answered, unfazed, propping himself on his elbows. 

"You try to bargain, naked, on my desk with Sniper in-?! Ach!" Medic slammed the door shut and went away. 

"God… I told you he'd be back." Sniper said, pulling away from Spy slowly.

"Oui, but-" Spy pulled him back from his arm. "We have 15 minutes. 10 to finish and 5 to tidy up."

Sniper smirked. 

"5 to make you finish, love." He answered, looking at how red, swollen and dripping he was in his hand, as he raised a vicious eyebrow. When Spy saw it, his length throbbed and he gulped audibly. 

_ "Maybe even 2, kiss me..." _

Sniper did as he was told, entering his lover again and they had more time to clean up than the Frenchman expected at first.

  
  
  
  
  
  



	86. Perle, the thief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "May I have a Pearl request where she is at the thievery once again and stills snipers hat along with spy’s balaclava"   
> +  
> "Perle likes noodles"

"Meow…" 

"Oh, hello there, pretty cat… Yeah, I'm like you, I'm waiting for Lu' to come back home." 

Mundy was sitting in front of the TV. He hadn't done much that day, the usual chores here and there, and that was about it. It had nonetheless got him tired. The miserable weather outside also got to him and he had decided to sit on the sofa and wait for the time to pass. He had thrown a thin cover on his lap and was lazily watching TV.

"Meow?" 

Mundy turned his head and saw Perle lapping and eating the few instant noodles he had left in his bowl on the small table next to the sofa. 

"You like the noodles?"

Perle ate the few bits that were sticking to the bowl and lapped at it repeatedly. 

"Yeah I like them too. Cheap and fills you up." Mundy added before sighing. "I wonder how much longer it's gonna take him with Engie."

Perle licked the bowl absolutely clean and then sat to clean herself. 

"It wasn't supposed to take him that long…" 

Mundy was more annoyed at how uninteresting things got on TV rather than the impatience itself. He took the remote and flicked through the channels, unconvinced by any of them when the door opened. 

"Sniper?" 

Mundy jumped on his seat and sprang out of the sofa. 

"You're back?" 

"Oui." Spy locked the door before removing his mask and carding his hair back with his gloved fingers. Perle slid next to his legs and exited the room through the cat door.

"Finally!" Mundy answered as he went to his lover and hugged him after he removed his jacket.

"Should I understand that you missed me?" Lucien asked.

"Yeah, quite a bit." 

"Hmm…" Lucien purred in his lover's arms. "I am sorry it took longer than expected."

"Nah, it's fine. Now you're here." 

"Oui. So, what have you been up to?" 

The conversation carried on as the white noise of the rain hitting the windows lulled them and they sank on the sofa, Lucien in Mundy's arms and both under the soft cover. 

"Your taste in television programs is quite bad,  _ mon amour.  _ What is this?"

"It's the latest series everyone is watching." 

"Why are the actors all that tanned? They almost look sunburnt." 

"They're American, luv'." 

"Are the United States that close to the tropics now?"

Mundy chuckled and tightened his hug on his lover. 

"You're adorable…" He pressed his lips on Lucien's temple. "I love you." 

Lucien closed his eyes under the affection and purred. But a knock on the door interrupted them. 

"Oh, did you expect someone?" Mundy asked, seeing Lucien stand up and look for his mask.

"Oui, Engineer wasn't finished when I left him. But he kindly offered to put the final touches without me. I guess this is him… Have you seen my mask?"

Mundy rose from the sofa and looked everywhere.

"Where did you put it where you entered?"

"On the table, as usual, but it isn't here anymore…"

"If you want, I can take it, you go to the bedroom." 

" _ Merci, mon amour." _

_ [Thanks, my love.] _

Lucien left a kiss on Mundy's lips as Engie knocked again. 

"I'm comin'!" Mundy answered and waited to see Lucien was out of sight before opening the door. 

"Hey, mate, sorry for keepin' you waiting."

"I hope I'm not interruptin' anything," Engie answered. "Here, Spy's sapper. It was actin' weird but now it's all fixed." 

"Ah, thanks mate, I'll give it to him and I'll let him know."

"Alrighty then, see ya!"

"Yeah, see ya." 

The door closed and Mundy put the sapper on the nearby table. 

"Did you lock the door?" A voice asked from the bedroom. 

"Yeah, I did, you can come out, luv'!" 

Lucien appeared again. 

"Your sapper's all repaired now."

"Ah! Perfect!" 

"Have you found your mask meanwhile?" 

"I'm afraid not… It is very strange. I am sure I had put it there, on the table by the door…" Lucien's eyes scanned the room. "Oh, you didn't put your hat on the table either?"

Mundy's eyebrows jumped. 

"Nah, I… I usually do…" 

Perle entered through the cat door and meowed repeatedly, brushing herself on Lucien and Mundy's legs. 

"Hey, pretty cat, what is it? Why'd you meow so much now?" 

Seeing that she had caught Mundy's attention, Perle trotted to the kitchen, her meows echoing there. 

"Alright, what is it…?" He followed her and saw her food and water bowls empty. "But I gave you your food this morning, I'll put more water." And he did what he said as he heard Lucien still coming and going, looking for his mask. 

"Here… Sorry if we kept you thirsty, Pearl." He added as he crouched to the ground and put the water bowl back. He petted her but she still meowed at him. "What is it? You had your food and you even finished my noodles earlier…" 

She jumped on the kitchen top and tried as much as she could until she managed to open a cupboard. 

"What are you…?" Mundy stood back up and stared at her. Perle half jumped into the cupboard and made some packets fall here and there. 

"Oi! Pearl, what's wrong with you…?" 

She got out of the cupboard, a pack of instant noodles between her needle-like teeth. 

"You finished mine, what, d'you want more?"

"Meow!" 

"Nah, if I cook some for you, Lu' will kill me."

"Why would I kill you?" Lucien said as he joined them in the kitchen. He saw the mess of packets that Mundy was tidying up and raised a curious eyebrow. "Oh, what happened? You couldn't reach something perhaps?" Lucien teased Mundy on his height. 

"Nah, it's Pearl. She wants me to cook some noodles for her." 

"I told you to not get her used to it…"

"Yeah, my bad, she loves it way too much now…" 

"Meow!"

"Non, Perle. You had your food for today and we are giving you treats from time to time. You are big enough as it is." 

"Meow!!"

"Non, there is no room for discussion here." Lucien helped Mundy clean up the mess. 

"Meow!" Perle answered back again and this time Lucien looked down at her with curious eyes. 

"Oh ho," Mundy said, "She's talking back today…" 

"Oui, it is odd… Also, I haven't found your hat or my balaclava. I have looked everywhere and couldn't find them!" 

"Meow!" Perle jumped on the counter where the packet of instant noodles was, she stole it and darted away. 

"Perle! Non! Come back!" Lucien and Mundy both ran after her. 

She slipped out of the Spy's suite through the cat door. 

"Ah, merde! I'll go and put on another mask, you go after her." Lucien said. 

"Sure." Mundy got out and followed her. 

He saw her slip in the base's broom closet. 

"What are you doin' there…?" Mundy pulled the door a bit more and entered. 

It was pitch dark inside. He quickly found a switch and flipped it. The yellow light helped a bit. 

"Meow…" 

"Why did you run back here with the noodles?" He asked, pushing the brooms left and right to see her better. He crouched down. 

"Wait a minute, that's my hat! What is it doin' here? Did you bring it?" He extended his hand to take it when Perle jumped between him and his hat and hissed aggressively, showing her teeth and curving her back. Her tail pointed straight up and her fluff was all tensed up. 

"Hey, it's just me, pretty cat…?" Mundy removed his hand. 

"Sniper?" Spy was looking for his lover and Mundy heard his shout from the corridor. 

"Yeah, I'm in the broom closet, Spook. C'mere!" 

"Mon Dieu… Ah, here you both are, come on, Perle, I don't know what that was all about but we are going home." Spy said as he crouched. 

"Wait, Spook."

"What?" 

"Look, she has my hat!"

Lucien squinted to see better, the closet was quite dark. 

"Oui, she does… What is it doing here?" He asked. 

"I don't know but when I tried to take it back she hissed at me…"

"She hissed?"

"Yeah, like she didn't want me to take it."

"Nonsense!" Lucien said and got his hand closer. " _ Perle, ma chérie, rends à Mundy son-argh!" _

[Perle, sweetheart, give back to Mundy his-argh!]

She hissed and slapped her paw on Lucien's fingers with her claws out. It scratched his skin enough to draw blood but not too seriously. 

"Mon Dieu, that's new…!" He exclaimed as he removed his glove to see the blood prickling on his skin. 

"Look, Spook." 

They both watched as Perle turned and ripped the packet of noodles apart. She took the dried product and broke it with her teeth, chewing it but now swallowing it. 

"Perle…"

"Shh, watch." Mundy said. 

Both Lucien and him were crouching on the ground and paying attention. When Perle was done chewing through a good chunk of the noodles, sawing it to small bits, she took the hat in between her teeth and raised it. 

"Oh my God…"

"Mon Dieu…"

Lucien's mask was there under the hat but it was…  _ moving? _ Mundy and Lucien frowned until a few chicks peeked out and chirped, coming out of the balaclava and hat, pecking at the bits of dried pasta laying on the ground. Perle laid on the floor next to them.

"That's where my mask and your hat were…"

"She's been rescuing chicks!" Mundy exclaimed. "That's why you needed the noodles! Look, Lu', we can't leave them there, we should bring them all at home." 

"What if they carry diseases?" 

"Nah, they're fine, they're just hungry and thirsty. Pearl, you let me pick them up this time?" 

"Meow." She rose to her feet and went next to Mundy. He put his hat upside down to act like a basket and filled it with some crumbs from the noodles before picking up the chicks delicately. He put them in, one by one and turned to Lucien. 

"C'mon pick up your mask and let's go back home." 

"Why did she need my mask…?"

"To keep them warm I guess. Chicks usually sit under their mum." 

"Ah, I see." 

They exited the broom closet and bumped onto Scout and Engie. 

"Oh, hey there." Engie said. 

"What were you doin' in there?" Scout asked and before Sniper could answer, Spy stood between them and raised a malicious eyebrow. 

"What do you think Sniper and I would do if left alone in a room…?" 

Scout winced. 

"Ew…"

"Don't ask questions that you are not ready for the answer to, Scout." He added before taking Sniper by his arm and heading back to his room with him. 

A few moments later, Mundy was sitting on the carpet between the sofa and the fireplace and was playing with the chicks between his hands. 

"Here, I have ground more noodles and have filled a plate with water." Lucien said as he put everything down. "Ooh, they seem to like you." 

"Yeah, cause I'm warm."

"I can only agree." 

They exchanged a loving grin. 

"Wanna hold one?" 

"May I?" 

"Of course."

"How should I do it?" 

"Put your hands like a bowl. Remove your gloves first." 

"Don't they have claws?"

"Lu', they're tiny."

"I was scratched once today already and don't want more." He answered. 

"They won't scratch you, I promise. You trust me?" Mundy asked. 

"With my life." Lucien answered. He removed his gloves and gathered his hands. "Here."

"Here, I've got one in my hand and… There we go! You got it now!"

"Ooh! It tickles, it's very soft!" Lucien discovered. 

"Yeah, chicks won't claw into you, they're too small and fragile. Now, close your hands slightly, leave it a bit open for some air and stay like that for a minute." 

Lucien was staring at his hands and waited.

"Now very slowly, open yer hands."

The Frenchman did as he was told. 

"Oh, is it asleep?" 

"Yeah, it snuggled in your hands and because it was all dark and cosy, he thought it was sleep time." 

"I see…" Lucien raised his head to Perle who joined them on the carpet. Some of the chicks went against her fluffy and white fur, looking for warmth. "That's why you scratched me, hm? For those baby birds?" 

Perle rose to her feet again and went to Lucien. She licked his hand, on the wound she had caused. 

"I know you are sorry, and I understand why. You are an exceptional cat,  _ Mademoiselle."  _

[Young lady]

She purred and looked up to brush her head on Lucien's mouth. He only had to bend down and he left a few pecks too. 

"She's a very good kitty." Mundy added as he directed the chicks to the water on the plate, on the carpet, in front of Lucien and him. 

"Oui, a truly remarkable companion."


	87. Paddleboarding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Maybe Lucien and Mundy go paddle boarding together because it's hot. And there just giggling and laughing at each other because they can't figure it out. Also, your writing is awesome! Explain how it is so gosh diddly darn good!"

* * *

"So I just stand on this plank and what?" 

"Luv', it's a board, not a plank…"

Lucien was standing on a white and blue board, on the surface of the water. His arms were open left and right to help him find his balance.

"Same difference. But what do I do now?"

"I don't know, try to paddle to move..?"

"What do you mean 'you don't know?', you were the one to insist for us to go plank-paddling?" 

"It's paddleboarding, luv'! And here, take the paddle…!" 

"Mundy…" Lucien bent to grasp the paddle that his lover, who was sitting on another board, was handing him. "Mundy I will fall…! I'm losing my balance…!"

"Nah, you're alright, just a bit more effort, c'mon, you can grab it…!"

Lucien bent forward a bit more and indeed fell forward, diving in the sea water as Mundy burst out laughing. The Frenchman's head popped out of the surface, gasping for air. 

"I hate this!" He exclaimed as he swam to his board and pulled himself to sit up on it. 

"Nah, you don't…"

"Oh…" Lucien coughed a bit of water and cleared his throat. "You try it now." 

"Roight, watch this, love." Mundy pushed himself to stand up on his board under Lucien's keen eyes. 

Mundy had a quite lean body and as they had been in Australia for a few weeks already, he had tanned beautifully. His skin was the colour of the caramel that Lucien could hardly resist. His stomach betrayed the unspoken love he had for beer, but only slightly. His arms were strong, his hand calloused and rough and, Lucien's eyes glided like the water on Mundy's body as he stood up and found his balance, his legs were lean, his calves muscular and long. 

Lucien's eyes were now on his lover's chest. There weren’t too many hairs and it certainly had no grey patches as his own did. He followed the trail of short hairs across Mundy's stomach and belly up until his eyes bumped on the waistband of his swimming shorts. With the eyes of his imagination, Lucien could see through them and what his mind painted enthralled him. The thick short, black hairs covered the most delicate parts of the man his heart now raced for. Lucien's pupils dilated. 

Mundy's masculinity was perfect, slightly more impressive in length than Lucien's own, but of comparable girth. And God, he knew how to use it… 

"Oi, Lu'? Are you listenin'?"

"Huh, pardon, I'm sorry." 

"You looked like you were on another planet."

"Oui, well, anyway…" Lucien wished he wasn't blushing too hard. "You were saying?" 

"Can you hand me the paddle?" 

"But of course." Lucien obliged. 

"Alright, now, I guess I just paddle my way forward-woh!" Mundy planted the paddle in the water but he lost his balance doing so and bent on his side. "Wow, wow, no, no, no-!" He managed to not tip over. 

"I was convinced you would fall." Lucien snickered.

"Me too, God… Okay, I think I got it now…" Mundy started paddling again and Lucien watched as he managed to stir himself without falling. "Well, it's easy! Go on, try it!"

Lucien tried again and managed to stand up without any problems this time. He grabbed the paddle at his feet. 

"Now, do it slowly, love. When you pull the paddle over to you, do it super gently."

"Fine…" Lucien did it so slowly it might have been in slow motion.

"You can do it faster, Lu', d'you want to go forward or not?" 

"Don't mock me when you just about mastered the technique!" 

Mundy laughed in response. They both paddled in their own direction, trying to feel how they should adjust their movements. It took them a bit of training but they finally wrapped their heads around it. 

Lucien was still struggling and so he didn't see his lover devouring him with his eyes. The Frenchman's body was more lean than Mundy's. His shoulders were less broad and his overall silhouette was slimmer. But what grace, what charm… The man's movements were pure poetry. He almost looked like he was doing it on purpose, but no. Mundy had never seen him break the act, which meant that Lucien really was that graceful naturally. His chest had salt and pepper hairs but no trail connected his chest to his nether regions. Mundy licked his lips… What that pair of striped shorts hid was making him hungry without even seeing it. His eyes flicked up and noticed how Lucien's wet hair curled a bit less than what they did when they were dry. His cinder locks of hair at the front and on his temples were shining beautifully under the Australian sun. 

"So, Mundy, what about a race?" 

"A race?" 

"Oui, on the planks, with the paddles." 

"Again, Lu', it's boards for God's sake…"

"We call them the same word as plank in French, that's why I insist. But yes I shall try and remember that it is a board. Anyway, are you up for the challenge?" 

"What will I win?" 

"Ooh, listen to the confidence of the Bushman! But oui, suppose you win, I will let you have your way with me tonight."

"Anythin' I want?"

"Absolutely anything. I will not refuse anything." 

"Oh, woah…" Mundy's eyebrows jumped and his pupils dilated. "Okay, I can't really refuse. And what if you win?"

"Would it surprise you that I should ask of you the same?" 

"That you do to me whatever you want?" 

"Non," Lucien chuckled. "That _you_ do to me whatever you fancy."

"Wow, sounds like I'd win whatever I do, eh? Go for a race, then!"

"Bien, let me come closer… _Voilà,_ now, we start here and end up back on the sand, what do you say?" 

"So we paddle back to the beach basically, yeah?" 

"Oui." 

"Right, ok, got it."

"Ready? Set! Go!" 

Both paddled with energy as they also tried to maintain their balance. 

"Hahaha! Lu', I'm beatin' ya!"

Lucien grumbled as he tried paddling faster but to no avail. 

"Mundy! I will win!" 

"What difference does it make to you, you'll end up under me tonight for hours and hours anyway! Ha!"

"Mundy!" Lucien dropped his paddle and dived in direction of his lover. He tackled him and both ended in the seawater. They resurfaced a short moment later. 

"You cheater!" 

Lucien's limbs were wrapped around his lover's. 

"As if you were really complaining…" He pulled Mundy's face to him and put his salty lips on his lover's. 

Like a magic spell, Mundy forgot about complaining altogether and just melted, answering with his tongue and lips the declaration of love that Lucien was making him.


	88. Coffee shop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Coffee shop AU? Where Lu works as a bartista and Mundy visits that specific shop religiously just to get a glimpse of Lu. They talked a few times before, so one day Mundy decides to try and ask him out, but Lu being so observant already knew and requited his feelings. They have a lil' date right after ^^"

* * *

"Ugh… What a mornin'…"

It had been Mundy's first day at his new job and he already felt overwhelmed. It wasn't the job itself that was causing his headache, but the number of people surrounding him. Despite having an office job where the telephone barely rang, his colleagues had turned out to compensate with a lot of chats here and there. 

Mundy much preferred working undisturbed, with a bit of music or radio, but no other human to answer to. Each time he had to raise his head to answer whoever entered his office, he felt annoyed as they cut his pace and task always at an odd time. 

But his shift was done and now, Mundy was after some peace and maybe some paracetamol. 

He walked along the streets when a small shop caught his attention. It was relatively new in town and it had to be the smallest coffee shop he had ever seen. However, it looked fantastically modern and very nicely decorated. Mundy's eyes lingered inside and realised there was no one. He read the name of the shop, written in black cursive letters:  _ Chez Lucien.  _

_ [At Lucien's.] _

Mundy passed the shop and went straight back home. 

Time passed and the days flew. Mundy had managed to work only morning shifts which he noticed were usually a bit more calm in terms of the number of people bothering him. It proved to make him all the more efficient. That end of the morning, as he passed in front of the coffee shop, he decided he could do with a well earned cup. 

He pushed the door and a gentle jingle tickled his ears before the faint accordion music did. The shop was as small as it looked from the outside and as Mundy scanned the inside, there was no one else. He sat at the counter and waited when a man appeared. 

He looked older than Mundy as his salt and pepper temples and front lock of hair betrayed his age. He was wearing a white shirt and Burgundy vest and trousers. On top of them was a black apron with the name of the shop in cursive white letters. 

"Good morning."

"Hey there, uh, can I get a black coffee please?" 

"If you were to get it, then I should give you my apron." The coffee shop worker answered with a smile. 

"What?" Mundy raised a confused and surprised eyebrow as the man had spoken with a foreign accent.

"My apologies, it was only a joke. What you mean is  _ 'May I have a coffee please?',  _ not  _ 'Can I get a coffee please?'. _ What kind?" 

Mundy was still confused but he answered. 

"B-black, no sugar, and large please." 

"But of course. What blend of beans would suit you best? You have the selection of the month on the menu in front of you."

Mundy's eyebrows jumped. It was the first time he was asked about that…

"I will let you choose. Just call for me whenever you are ready." 

"Okay…" 

The waiter disappeared in the back while Mundy studied the menu. There were a dozen or so blends of beans with their origins and a description associated with each one. It took him a couple minutes to go through all of them but in the end, he was still clueless…

"S'cuse me?" 

After a few footsteps, the man with the salt and pepper hair re-appeared. 

"Oui? You have made your mind I suppose?" 

"Uh, not really…"

"May I help?" 

There was something inviting in those very light blue eyes of his that made Mundy yield, where he would have normally just refused and exited the place. 

"Yeah, please."

"What mood are you in right now? Are you looking to get some strength to bite in the day or…?"

"N-no actually I've just come out of work and wanted to relax a bit." 

"Ah, then I know what you just need. Do you trust me?" 

Mundy flicked his eyes from the menu up to the man's eyes. 

"Yeah, go ahead."

The coffee shop waiter got to work as he talked. 

"Thank you."

"No worries."

"And sorry if I come across as a bit…  _ different." _ He added. 

Mundy smiled to himself. People used to call him different too. 

"You see, the mistakes you made while asking me for a coffee are very common and come from how Americans have spread their mistakes through their cultural influence. If you were to  _ 'get'  _ a coffee, that originally means that you  _ make it _ , as opposed to receiving it from someone else. As for the second mistake, it is very very common too. People tend to forget the difference between  _ 'can'  _ and  _ 'may'. _ " 

Mundy stared at the busy man. 

"But enough with my grammar lesson when I can barely speak your language." He turned to face Mundy. "Here is your coffee,  _ bon appétit. _ " 

"Uh, 'scuse me?" 

"Oui?" 

[Yes?]

"Can I smoke here? I mean…" Mundy thought again. " _ May I smoke here?"  _

The man in the apron smiled. 

"I see you learn fast. Oui, you may smoke." He answered before disappearing through the back door.

Mundy was left to enjoy his coffee and cigarette in the small shop, accompanied by the faint radio tune that was broadcasting some accordion, and surrounded by no other living soul than those of the plants around him. He liked it in there. It was peaceful and the right volume of ambient noise. 

He took the first sip of his coffee and nodded to himself. It was good, very good. It almost tasted sweet despite it not having a single gram of sugar. The warmth of it soothed him too and his shoulders sank as he relaxed. Yes, the man was right, it was just what he had needed. 

And it became a habit. Every other day, Mundy would stop on his way back home to have a cup of coffee at that odd, off-brand little coffee shop. There were more clients too but it was mostly to have a take away.

"So, uh, what's your name?" Mundy asked.

"The one written on the front window." 

"Lucien?" 

"Oui." Lucien nodded with a smile. "And your pronunciation is quite good."

"Oh, how d'you say it?"

" _ Lucien."  _ Lucien said it a bit slower. 

"Lucien?"

"Oui! You have it!"

"Ah, nice."

"What's yours?"

"Mundy." 

"Exotic."

"So is yours." Mundy answered and they exchanged a smile. "So you're Italian or something?" 

"Non, I am French." 

"Oh, explains the music…" Mundy said and Lucien chuckled. "I didn't know the French were big on their coffee." 

"Almost as much as the British are on their tea but we failed to market it as well as the Italians." Lucien answered, wiping the counter clean.

They were alone in the shop for a while. Lucien noticed that Mundy came more frequently and stayed longer. If at first he would leave him to drink his coffee alone, he wanted to have a chat and know more about his first regular client. 

"Do you work only in the mornings?" 

"Yeah, better that way."

"Lucky you."

Mundy raised his eyes. 

"Although to be honest I don't have many people coming into my shop. If I closed the afternoons, it wouldn't make a big difference. It has been a few months that I have started this business but I haven't met the success that I had expected."

The Aussie heard the disappointment in Lucien's voice.

"You thought you'd have a lot more clients?"

"Not a lot. I don't want a lot of people. I don't want people to order coffee from me if they don't know how to savour and appreciate it down to its nuances. But I had hoped that a few  _ connaisseurs _ would be attracted."

"Ah sorry mate… You should have gone to the posh district. They'd love it." Mundy thought about some of his work colleagues who came from there. And he had an idea. 

"D'you work tomorrow, Lucien?"

"Oui, I do."

"Right, you might have more people coming."

"I hope so." 

Lucien thought it was only words of encouragement but Mundy had meant it otherwise. The next day, a lot more people showed up. Lucien was almost overwhelmed, the number of clients grew to a point where he really felt the weight at rush hour in the morning in particular. 

"Bonjour Mundy, the usual?" 

"Yeah, I wouldn't be against something a bit stronger, y'know, to go with the weather." 

Lucien's eyes went to the front window and indeed the sun was beaming beautifully.

"Fine, give me only an instant." 

"You're the boss!" Mundy answered and he watched as Lucien started the preparation of his coffee. 

They had a routine now. Mundy's usual was whatever Lucien chose for him. He would come in, tell his friend about his state of mind and Lucien never failed to nail the best of coffee blends for him. 

"How come you always know what coffee to make when I tell you how I feel?" He asked. 

"Ah, experience,  _ mon ami."  _ Lucien answered. "Experience and a bit of empathy I suppose. Here, enjoy." 

[My friend]

Mundy took the cup and a sip. 

"Oh, that's a fruity one… It's almost as if you mixed some fruits in there!" 

"Experience, empathy, and your exceptional sense of taste too." Lucien answered. 

Mundy raised his eyes and blushed when his gaze crossed the Frenchman's. 

"I wouldn't be able to give you the coffee you need if you weren't able to appreciate it." 

"I-I guess, yeah." 

Their chat was interrupted when a lady entered. 

"Bonjour Madame, how may I help?"

"Mundy?" She started and the Aussie turned to face her.

"Oh, Emma, hey, finished early today?" He recognised her from work. 

"No, silly, it's already five in the afternoon. You daydream too much!" She joked and his eyes snapped to the size of planets. 

_ Already five?!  _ He had been there for hours without realising it!

"Uh, can I get your fruity mix, with one sugar please."

"As a take-away?" Lucien guessed at how she seemed in a rush. 

"Yeah, please, and make it large too." 

" _ Très bien." _

_ [Very well.] _

Lucien got busy but his ears were still on Mundy and Emma's conversation. 

"What are you doing here in a coffee shop on your own, M?"

"I, uh…" Mundy did not know what he was doing there and why he had stayed so long… But something came to his mind. "Actually it's wrong."

"What?" Emma asked. 

"What you said, it's wrong. You shouldn't say  _ 'can I get you fruity mix' _ , but  _ 'may I have your fruity mix'. _ "

Lucien, who had his back to them, stopped sharp. 

"What are you on about?" Emma chuckled. 

"Think about it! When you get some coffee, that means you make it, not that you receive it." 

"Pfff, you're a weirdo, M…" She chuckled.

Lucien turned and put the cup on the counter. Emma paid for it and left, leaving Mundy and Lucien alone, at the counter. 

"I…" Lucien started. "You remembered what I had said about the grammar?" 

"It makes sense." Mundy answered. 

"I am sorry that your friend does not see it that way." 

"Bah, none of them do." Mundy answered, lowering his head to his cup. 

"What do you mean?" 

"I… I've never been good with people. I've never had many friends. I'm just awkward and most of the time, they say exactly what she did: I'm a weirdo."

Lucien heard the slight distress.

"You have me. I am your friend." 

Mundy raised his eyes. 

"And I am sure that you thought I was a weirdo when we first met." Lucien added. "I saw it on your face." 

"Nah, you're not-"

"No need to try and lie to me." Lucien chuckled. "I read you like an open book, as we say in French."

"Lucien?" 

"Oui?" 

"Do you have friends here?" 

Surprise flashed quickly across the Frenchman's face but it disappeared as soon as it had first come.

"Non, no one apart from you. I used to work in France and decided to leave and start a new life with what little money I managed to save throughout my life." 

"Oh… What about family and friends? They're still in France then?" 

"Non, I don't have friends per se and I don't have any family left." 

"Oh, wow… I'm sorry to hear that." 

"Don't be, you or I have nothing to do with it. It just is that way." 

"What was your job before? You were selling coffee too?" 

"Non, I had a different position. But I would rather not talk about any of this too much, if you don't mind." 

"Oh, sorry, yeah, o'course." Mundy realised that he might have struck a nerve with his questions.

"What about you? You said you had no friends, but I refuse to think that such a nice man as you are is lonely.

"Well, thanks, but uh, yeah, I have colleagues at best, but no friends. They all grew up and flew different ways, starting their families a good decade ago at least now." 

"And you haven't?" 

Mundy lowered his head. 

"N-no… Mum and Dad would have loved it for me, but no. I haven't found the right person yet." 

"Fair enough." 

"But you," Mundy raised his head to Lucien, "You're French and classy n'all…" 

The Frenchman chuckled as he turned to start tidying up. The sun was gently setting in the distance. 

"Oui, I have had quite a lot of success before." 

"Before what?" 

"A long time ago." He simply answered and took the dirty cups to the other room behind the shop. He appeared again and saw Mundy staring at him. "I apologise. I am not used to talking about myself." 

"Me neither, mate. But I like listening to you." 

Lucien raised his eyes to Mundy and saw a warm smile. 

"What do you say to continuing this conversation over some dinner?" He suggested to his Aussie friend. 

"O-oh, uh, where?" 

Lucien removed his apron and neatly folded it before storing it in one of the cupboards under the counter. 

"Wherever you want. I haven't tried any place here yet. Would you be so kind as to be my guide?" 

Mundy felt warm and fuzzy. His heart woke up and he could feel his cheeks turn pink.

"Sure, yeah." 

They exited the coffee shop together and soon found themselves in an Italian restaurant. 

"Mundy?" 

"Yeah?"

"I must thank you."

"Why?"

"Since the day you hoped for me to get more clients, it is as if God heard you and people started coming. I would see a lot of new faces, some I would see only once. But some would come back from time to time. Your prayer has been more than heard." 

"Ah, well, I just, I just talked about you at work." 

Lucien raised his head off the menu. 

"Really?" Seeing how shy and clumsy had been with Emma, Lucien couldn't imagine how he had talked about his coffee shop to other people. 

"Yeah, I thought it might help."

"And it did, greatly! It is very kind of you, thanks." 

Mundy was delighted to see his friend smile. He even saw a bit of his pearly white teeth. Lucien was handsome… Oh! Mundy shook his head and hid himself behind the menu, one hand clenching on the fork he was fiddling with. 

"Hey…" 

Mundy's head slowly rose from behind the menu. 

"I think you are as shy as I find it endearing, so please…" 

Mundy's eyes were open wide. 

"... Let me be your friend, maybe?" Lucien asked, his right hand hanging over the table for Mundy to shake. 

The Aussie's eyes darted from Lucien's eyes to his hand. He eventually lowered the menu completely and shook Lucien's hand. 

"Oh…?" Mundy's eyes went down to his fingers.

Lucien did not let go of Mundy's hand, not for years.


	89. Maman Perle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "If you have time, Perle goes missing for a wee bit and spy is freaking out looking for her and so sniper looks in a place where no one really goes and when he finds her, Perle had kittens, if you want"

When he heard the knock, Spy ran to his door and opened. 

"Please come in!"

Sniper's eyebrows jumped in surprise as Spy practically threw himself in his arms.

"What's wrong?" 

"It's Perle, I haven't seen her in days and I fear the worst has happened to her…" Spy buried his head in Sniper's chest to hide his distress that was nonetheless very clear. 

"C'mere, love." Sniper hugged his lover and led them both on the sofa where they took a seat. 

"Now, when was the last time you saw her?" 

"A few days ago… Oh, and to think I told her off…" Spy said, his voice full of regret. 

"What happened?" 

"She kept on meowing through the night, she drove me insane! I had to lock her up in the kitchen."

"And then?" 

"And then I went to sleep. When I woke up, I opened the door and couldn't see her anywhere. I didn't think much of it but it has been days now and I am worried to my bone marrow!"

"Calm down, love, I'll help you look for her. We'll find her, c'mon." 

They roamed through the Frenchman's suite, searching and calling out for Perle, but to no avail. 

"She might have gone out through the cat door. Let's search the base." Sniper said, seeing the grief in his lover's eyes. 

And again, they went everywhere. In the living room, they looked under the couches where their colleagues were sitting. 

"What are you lookin' for lads?" Demo asked. 

"None of your business!" Spy snapped under the pressure. 

"Mates, you haven't seen a fluffy white cat lately?" Sniper explained. 

They shook their heads.

"We'll let you know if we do." Demo answered. 

"What? Spy's cat, you mean?" Scout asked and both Sniper and Spy turned to him. 

"Oui, have you seen her?!" He asked gasping. 

"What, you lost your cat? I thought you always had control of everything, eh?" Scout taunted. But Spy was too worried for jokes. He leapt at his younger colleague and tackled him to the floor with both his hands on the young man's throat. 

"I dare you to make fun now, Scout, you just try." He said, boiling with rage, straddling Scout's body on the floor, his teeth gritted hard. 

"Spy! Stop it!" Sniper went to separate them but Spy's eyes still flashed threateningly. 

"Scout, you say something of the sort again when her life is at stake and no respawn or medigun will fix what I will do to you!" He furiously shouted while Sniper still held him back. 

Their colleagues around were stunned by how angry Spy could get. They helped Scout up and Sniper took Spy outside of the base to get some fresh air. 

"Love, what was that? You can't throw yourself at Scout like that, you know he's all talk and nothing serious…" .

"Oui, I know. But I can't help it. Not when Perle is at stake." 

"Don't say that, we live in the middle of the desert. No one comes or goes so she can't have been run over. Besides, she's way too clever for that." 

"Pff…" Spy leaned back on the base's front door and let himself sink down. Sniper crouched down and put a hand on his lover's shoulder. He looked around them. 

The orange and dry desert spread as far as the eye could see. Only the cacti dared interrupt the sea of dust. The cacti and Sniper's van. There was a small puddle of oil on the ground next to it. It reminded Sniper to ask Engie about it. He was about to turn his head to Spy again when a detail caught his eye. 

"What the hell is that…?" 

Sniper let go of Spy's shoulder and walked to his van. He crouched down and looked carefully. 

"What is it?" Spy asked as he joined him. "Oh mon Dieu! It's her footprints! Paw-prints? Footprints? It's her!" 

There was a trail of paw prints that led further underneath the van. 

"Meow."

"Perle?!" Lucien shouted excitedly. He laid flat on the floor, ignoring the dramatic effect of the sand on his suit. "Here she is! Perle!  _ Ma chérie, ma petite, ma belle!" _

[My sweetheart, my little one, my beautiful one!]

"Meow!" She answered, curled in a ball of fur.

" _ Viens, ma chérie."  _ He called but she didn't move. 

_ [Come, my sweetheart.] _

Sniper laid on the floor next to him when a strange noise made them both frown and squint. 

"Pearl, was that you…?" 

"It sounded like a squeak," Spy said. "Much like the noises she made when she was a -  _ oh mon Dieu…" _

[Oh my God…]

Perle unrolled her fluffy tail that she had wrapped around her and revealed a litter of kittens. 

"She's got kittens!" Sniper exclaimed. "She's a mum!"

"Ooh!" Spy exclaimed, with tears in his eyes. Perle rose to her feet and grabbed her babies one by one, bringing them out of underneath the van and next to her masters. "Mon Dieu, oh, Perle, ooh!" 

Sniper saw Spy's tears roll down on his face. They both sat side by side and waited for Perle to gather her four babies. 

"Congrats, luv, you're a dad!" 

"Non, non,  _ mon amour,"  _ Spy wiped his face with the back of his hand. " _ We are." _

"We are dads?" Sniper asked. 

"Oui…" Spy leaned on Sniper's shoulder. "Oh, look at them… They are adorable and so small, so fragile… Can they open their eyes?" 

"When was it that she was meowing like crazy?" Sniper asked. 

"Three days ago, why?"

"That's when she gave birth to them, I think. She might have wanted to draw your attention for you to be there and help her but eh…"

"Oh merde…" Spy realised. "Did I tell her off right before she gave birth?"

"Yeah, I think you did. And remember when you thought she was too fat and you started feedin' her less?" 

"Merde…" Spy blushed out of embarrassment.

[Shit]

"Don't worry, I fed her behind your back. Left cans of cat food next to the van. I'd always find them empty the next day."

"You knew she was pregnant?" 

"Nah, only had doubts. When she got really big, I wondered… But then I thought that if she was pregnant, we'd know sooner or later."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Spy asked. 

"I wasn't sure…" 

Perle curled in a ball of fur on the ground, in front of them. 

"Meow."

"I do apologise, Perle, I behaved like a simpleton. I should have listened to you. I… I treated you badly and thought you were just any other cat. But non, you are one very fine lady." Spy approached his hand to her and he let his gloved hand run through her fluff. Soon, he heard her purr.

"I think she forgives you." 

"She is too kind. I underfed her for weeks, I yelled at her that other night and left her alone to give birth to magnificent children when she needed my help and yet, she still chooses to forgive me…" 

"Yeah." Sniper answered. 

"Meow." Perle raised her big blue eyes to her masters and purred under their hands. 

"Wanna go back home, pretty cat? You'll be better inside with your babies." 

"Meow." 

"I will fetch something to carry them." Spy said. 

"Look in the van, love, you'll find a basket." 

A few minutes later, all were back in Spy's smoking room.

"You should get a change, Spook. Your suit's covered in dust."

Spy looked down at himself and winced. 

"Ah, oui… You too."

Sniper looked down and smiled. 

"Guess we should get clean, eh?" He wrapped his arms around Spy. 

"Hands off, I am disgusting like that…" He snickered.

"Nah, you can't be disgustin', y'know that? You're always gorgeous…" Sniper led Spy to the bathroom. "And sexy…" He pushed the door and both of them entered. "And delicious…" 

He pressed his lips on Spy but the Frenchman gently pushed him back. 

"What?" 

"Do you accept?" Spy asked. 

"Do I accept what?"

"The custody of those young kittens with Perle and me?" Spy was looking up to his tall lover who softened. Sniper cupped Spy's face tenderly and stared lovingly in his eyes. 

"Of course I do, you silly. I love you… Now, may I kiss the young dad?" 

Spy raised a surprised eyebrow. 

"I am far from young, Sniper." 

"May I kiss the  _ old _ dad, then?" 

Spy smiled. 

"Rude, but honest." He said. "And yes, please do kiss him, I heard he had a terrible day of worries today." 

"Sounds like he needs comfort." Sniper bent down and squeezed the Frenchman between his arms as he kissed him.


	90. Spy's injury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A lil sad request: spy gets hurt on the battlefield like really hurt and he’s rushed to medic bay afterwards. And sniper not allowed to see him so he gets really worried and starts venting to demo that he might not ever see him again and he that blaming himself for lu getting injured. Only to have Interrupted by spy in cast who is very disappointed that mundy thinks he could killed so easily-"

"They've been in there for hours, can't I see him? I just want to see him!" 

"Nyet." 

Heavy was standing in front of the door to Medic's lab. His German friend had instructed him not to let anyone in, especially not Sniper.

"Ugh, mate, please…"

"Nyet." 

Sniper sighed and his shoulders sank. Heavy stood like a wall between him and Medic's lab.

"Is there anything I can do for you to let me in?" 

Heavy shook his head.

"Wanker…" Sniper turned his back and went away. 

Spy had been quite severely injured right at the end of the round so respawn did not fix it. All Sniper knew about it was what he saw of the incident. Spy was escaping the enemy Soldier and wanted to jump to a lower level of the map. However, Soldier had shot a rocket, making Spy jump higher than he had anticipated and he landed unconscious right at Sniper's feet as the Administrator announced their victory. 

Well, what is a victory when Spy's body was unconscious and covered in blood in Sniper's arms? 

Nothing is what it was, nothing, and certainly  _ not _ a victory. 

Sniper went back to the base. He thought that a bit of time with his colleagues might manage to distract him from his worries about his lover. He sat on the couch in the living-room next to Demo and Soldier who were watching some American football on TV. 

"Hey, lad, fancy a beer?" Demo handed him a bottle but Sniper shook his head. "Is it Spy?" Demo asked, seeing his friend's distraught blue eyes behind the aviator glasses. 

"Yeah…" 

"No! He missed it!" Soldier shouted at the screen and both Sniper and Demo got startled. 

"C'mere, lad. You need a good chat." Demo stood up and pulled Sniper to follow him. He dragged him outside and they sat on the edge of the van, at the back, on the small step there. "So, what's wrong?" 

"He's still with Medic and I'm… I'm worried, ok?" 

"Yeah, I can see that. But don't you worry, I'm sure the doc' will fix him!" 

"Yeah, well…"

Demo squinted at Sniper. 

"The doc' always fixes us, why d'you still worry?" 

"I don't know… When he crashed next to me, I - it was terrible. His face was pale, more pale than usual but he was covered in blood and worst of all, he was completely unconscious. But what scares me now is that the doc' never spends that long with anyone, even when we break our bones… I can't help thinkin' something seriously bad has happened." 

Demo put a hand on Sniper's shoulder but the Aussie kept his head lowered, staring at his boots and the orange, dusty ground of the desert.

"Have you tried to ask Medic?" Demo asked. 

"I tried, but Heavy's at the door and he won't let me in…"

"Ah, yeah, well… D'you want me to go and ask? Maybe he'll let me go in?" 

Sniper's face brightened. 

"Y-yeah, please, ask him how Spy's doing and uh, how much longer before I see him, and ask him if-"

"Wow, wow, lad, calm down, eh?" Demo chuckled. "I'll do it all. Now, you stay here and," Demo stood up. "Ye don't move, alright?" 

Sniper nodded excitedly and he rested his chin on his palms, waiting for Demo to come back. The poor Aussie couldn't help taking a look at his watch every so often. He was naturally patient, but Spy had changed him a bit in that regard. 

Well, Spy had changed him a lot. First, he loved him back, and that was the biggest change in Sniper's life for a few decades at least. He wasn't one to go around wooing ladies or gents. He didn't like the whole process of dating. Having ideas where to take the person, getting ready for it, preparing everything and half of the time, ending up being stood up. Nah… He didn't like it. The way Sniper usually did it was in pubs. After a couple of drinks, no one is shy anymore and sheilas are easier to get and less picky. He'd play the solitary hunter who lives in a van and boom, as easy as a headshot, he'd find himself someone to spend the night with.

But that was about it. The next morning, they would be gone and wouldn't want more of him. Hell, to be honest, neither did he. How could you want more from someone that you just know the body of? 

Spy had broken that habit - or that curse. Sniper couldn't exactly recall how it happened but they got to know each other and spend more and more time with each other without it feeling like dates per se. They would show up in their Mann Co. uniforms and decide what to do on the spur of the moment. Spy showed him a few good movies, not always the kind that Sniper had expected him to like. He would reciprocate by showing him the stars at night and commenting at length on the godly night blanket under which Sniper slept. 

Not anymore, eh. They had started sleeping together and as curious as it had seemed for both of them, they had started by _just_ sleeping. Sniper found it odd that Spy wouldn't be more forward but on his side of things, Spy just wanted that: some company. Sniper eventually understood it and they spent the sweetest nights with the most pleasant of dreams. They _were_ _living_ the dream, sleeping in each other's arms, one spooning the other, or one using the other's shoulder as a pillow, their limbs entangled. And they would wake up to hums, kisses and happy moans.

Sniper sighed and he grinned without realising it. He was in love with the Frenchman in a way that was so different, so pure, that it almost seemed childish. 

Of course, they had their needs and as such, they would indulge each other when they weren't too tired. Sniper had learnt a lot throughout the torrid nights with Spy. He had learnt about  _ it _ as a general concept but also about himself. Spy showed him a lot without maybe knowing it. But now Sniper knew. He was  _ lovable _ , his scars, bites and claw marks weren't a problem, his lack of Australia-shaped chest hair wasn't an issue at all and none of it made him less of a man. No, as it turned out, Spy showed extensively how much he loved them all, how he treasured every bit of his lover's body. And in his turn, Sniper had reciprocated.

"Sniper?" 

Demo's voice broke Sniper's daydreaming. 

"So, you saw him?" 

"Nah, Heavy didn't let me in but he went to ask and Medic said you could go and see for yerself."

"Oh, I'll go then, thanks, mate." 

"No problem, lad."

Sniper almost ran to Medic's quarters. Heavy had disappeared from the front door. He gave a knock and Medic answered. 

"Yes, Sniper, come in." 

"Hey, uh, can I see him?" 

Medic nodded. 

"Yes, you may. But-"

Sniper didn't wait for the end of the sentence and opened the door to the room Spy was in. 

"Spook?" 

Distress flashed across Sniper's face as he realised that the room was empty. 

"Where is he?" He entered. 

"Right behind you." The suave voice with the French accent answered and when Sniper turned and saw him, he threw himself at the injured man, squeezing him in a tight hug. 

"Oh my God, you got me worried so much!" 

"B-Bushman! Too strong, too strong!"

"Ah, sorry…" Sniper relaxed his hug and took a second to take in the view of Spy in his suit and - oh, a cast on his leg?

"I have to keep it for a few days." Spy said, seeing that Sniper had noticed. "But I have to go and see Medic everyday for it until I remove it." 

"Oh, ok… Does it still hurt?" 

"A bit, but much less than a few hours ago." 

"Gosh, I missed you so much, love…" 

Spy softened and let go of the crutches he was holding. They fell on the floor. He cupped Sniper's face with a tender smile. 

"I can see that on your face. But did you really think something that bad had happened?"

"Yeah, I mean, you were there for hours…"

"Because I argued with Medic."

"What?" 

"Can we sit down please? Resting on one leg is quite painful."

"S-sure." 

They took a seat on the chairs in the room. 

"Oui, I argued with him because he wanted me to stay here day and night."

"Why didn't you accept? If he thinks it's best for you then do it."

"And be nailed to this room without you for days? Non, I refused. And it took us a bit of quarrelling before we agreed on this solution." Spy pointed at the cast. 

"Oh… I see."

"Demoman came and told me you were worried to the bone." 

"Y-yeah, a bit." Sniper blushed and averted his gaze. Spy bent forward and took his lover's hand. 

"Do you think me that weak? After all we have been through already in this God forsaken company?"

"N-no, nah, I mean…"

Medic opened the door and interrupted them. 

"Now that the princess is rescued from her castle, do you mind leaving so that I can disinfect the place? Or maybe you changed your mind Spy, and you want to stay after all?" He taunted. 

"My leg is in a cast, but my hands are not and I can still use a knife or a gun, Medic." Spy stood up and caught the crutches that Medic threw at him. He walked to the man in the labcoat. "If I were you, I would watch my tongue." He added threateningly.

"Uh, thanks doc'." Sniper said to ease the atmosphere. 

"My absolute pleasure and delight…" Medic sarcastically added. "Always a pleasure to tend to a rotten spoilt child's wounds…" 

Spy turned and was about to answer but Sniper dragged him out and in a few minutes, they were back in Spy's smoking-room. 

"D'you want something? You hungry? Maybe a glass of water?" 

Spy smiled. 

"I may be injured but I am not crippled yet, so if I need anything, I am still capable of fetching it myself." 

Sniper blushed. 

"Sorry, I didn't want to offend you…"

"You didn't. Come next to me, please." 

They sat side by side on the sofa. 

"Please put the show that you like on TV."

"You want to watch it?" Sniper grabbed the remote and turned the TV screen on. 

"Oui." Spy leaned his head on Sniper's shoulder and threw away his gloves and his balaclava. 

"Thought you hated it." 

"Not more than being away from you for hours." Spy's hand found Sniper's and he held it dearly. "I… I missed you too, Sniper."

Sniper's blush went to his ears and he looked down at Spy. He looked gorgeous… The Aussie wrapped his arm around him and pulled him close. 

"Love you, Spook."

"So do I." 

Sniper's eyes were back on the screen when he felt a peck land shyly on his cheek before Spy's head settled on his shoulder.


	91. That's my darl'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hi me again (the one who requested drunk spy being clingy) back with another request: sniper admiring his husband from a distance who’s literally stabbing someone to death and realizing he’s using a technique he taught him. so he just gasp and nudges he’s teammate all happy, and proud and says “That’s my baby right there! And taught em to that! Look at ‘em! Oh he ain’t he a cute lil doll” and his teammate who is look at this very gruesome seen is just like “yeah... cute..”"

Sniper went to reload but he realised he had run out of bullets. 

"Bugger…"

He scoped in and saw that the coast was clear to Engie's nest with his dispenser. So without thinking too much about it, he left his own cosy nest and made his way to the dispenser. 

"Oh, howdy pardner."

"Hey there. Just need some bullets."

"Take your time, the battle is a bit further up front." Engie pointed in the direction of the blast and gunshot noises. 

"Oh, yeah, I can see that." Sniper refilled his stock and watched the fights unravel before his eyes for a bit, catching his breath.

Scout quickly came in running. 

"Oh man, things are tough at the front, but fancypants sapped the other Engie's stuff right on time!" 

Sniper smiled. He was proud of his lover. Every little thing Spy did just was beautiful… 

"Oh shit, he's gonna die, watch that!" Scout said and both Engie and Sniper's eyes went to the enemy Soldier running after the Frenchman with an evil smirk.

"No, he isn't going to get killed." Sniper calmly said. 

"The other guy's got a rocket launcher and he's facin' him! He's gonna get blown off!"

"Nah…" Sniper's lips pursed in a smile. "He got his gun out, he's got this." 

They watched as Spy took aim and shot two bullets. They flew through the enemy Soldier's skull, piercing through his helmet and he fell lifeless to the floor. Spy took a second to reload his Ambassador but the enemy Demoman landed next to him, interrupting him. Spy raised his gun and closed one eye to aim…

" _ Go on, darl', you got this…"  _ Sniper mumbled to himself but Scout and Engie sure did hear him. 

Two gunshots later, the enemy Demoman was down, with bullet holes in his forehead. 

"Aw, look at him… He's gorgeous when he shoots'em down." Sniper was leaning on the dispenser, his elbows on it and his head resting against his palms. "And now he's dustin' his suit off… I can hear him swear in French. Oh and the reload, yes, darl', don't forget, you got two bullets left in that revolver of yours…"

Scout and Engie looked at each other and then back at Sniper, slouched over the dispenser with a dreamy smile on his lips. 

"See how he aims now? I taught him that. Look at him go… He could kill all of them. He could be alone working and he'd do a better job than most of us…" He sighed. 

"Right, I gotta go - oof!" Scout started to run off but Sniper held him back from his satchel. 

"Nah, mate, watch - oh that's the other Spy, look… Yeah, reload, darl', oh, wow, he got his knife out too! You go, Spook! Get him!" 

Scout was forced to watch the scene between the two men in suits. They fought with both their knives and revolvers. 

"Ha! He disarmed him! Great job, luv', c'mon get him…!"

"Snipes, let me go!" 

"You're gonna miss the best part, watch!" Sniper took Scout's chin in his hand and made him face the scene. "That's my darl' right there… All classy and poetic, even when he fights - ooh, that's a nasty bit of stabbin' right there but look!"

Scout winced at how Spy was repeatedly stabbing his foe with great violence. 

"He's gorgeous… Look at the intensity in his eyes…"

"Man, it's awful, blood's springin' everywhere! Your boyfriend's a freak!" 

"And look at how he wipes the knife… Aww, he got your suit dirty? Nevermind that, love, we'll put it to wash, and I can even promise to help you out of it as soon as we're alone…"

"Alrighty then!" Engie interrupted before Sniper went too far. "You can go, Scout." He removed Sniper's hand from Scout's jaw and the young man darted away like a rabbit. 

"Jeez! You weirdo!"

The battles of the day ended and the mercenaries reconvened back in the locker room. 

"Hey, Spook." 

"Bushman, may we have a chat please?" 

"Sure." 

Scout and Engie exchanged a glance. Scout was disgusted and Engie, red beyond his ears. 

When they entered the Frenchman's suite, Spy removed his balaclava and gloves. 

"So, what d'you want?" Sniper asked, seeing Spy open the door to the bathroom.

"You have a promise to hold, Sniper." His voice went a bit higher in pitch in the end and Sniper's ears pricked up. 

"What promise?" 

"I heard you." Spy slipped in the bathroom but left the door ajar. Sniper followed him in.

"What are you talking about?" 

Spy turned to his lover and he splayed his hands on his chest. 

"When you talked to the others while I was fighting, I heard you." He whispered and one of his hands turned the shower on. Sniper blushed and felt his knees wobble awkwardly on his absurdly long legs. 

"The earpiece,  _ mon chéri,  _ I heard everything you said through it." He wrapped his arms around Sniper's neck. "You did promise to relieve me of my dirty clothes when we were alone, and I can't see anyone else around us…"

[my darling]

Sniper's hand went to Spy's waist like a reflex. 

"Gosh, you're gorgeous when you look up at me with those eyes…!" 

That shower lasted much longer than was necessary.


	92. Perle and Mister Perle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "What about if Perle met a nice, slim black cat? A male that perhaps is the father of her kittens, and Mundy and Lu are seeing him for the first time as he courts Perle outside the base? Spy could compare the wild, outdoorsy cat to his lover, Mundy."

“Meow.”

"You were right, Mundy, the kittens are not running away."

"Told ya, she's raisin' them right, aren't you, pretty cat?" 

Mundy and Lucien were outside in the desert. They had spread some cloth on the floor and were enjoying a snack with Perle and her young kittens. She had had a litter of four a few months before. All were black and white, some with longer hair than others, like their mother. 

"Mundy?" 

"Hm?" Mundy turned and saw his lover hold a grape for him in front of his mouth. He ate it and pushed his lips on Lucien's cheek. "Love ya." 

"So do I." 

The kittens were playing with each other, mewling happily, while Perle was lying between her masters, being spoilt like a queen. One was scratching her head, and the other, her back. She purred and purred until she rose to her feet and stretched. Mundy and Lucien didn't pay much attention to it as they dived back in their conversation while playing with the kittens. 

"D'you want to keep them?" Mundy asked. 

"Whom?"

"The kittens." 

"I do not know. What do you think? Should we keep them?"

"No idea. But if we do, they're gonna need names, eh." 

"Ah, oui, you are right…"

They looked at the kittens. All were white with black patches or the other way around. 

"There are two ladies and two gentlemen, oui?" 

"Yeah." 

"So we need two masculine names and two feminine ones. And please, if you accept, they have to work in French too."

"Okay, let's have a think… This one, it's a female and she's black with a white patch on her head… Why not Star?" 

" _ Étoile."  _ Lucien translated. "That is a beautiful name."

"Yeah, and it suits her cause the patch on her head looks like a star a bit." 

"Ah oui, you are right,  _ mon amour.  _ What about this one?"

_ [My love.] _

"Your turn, you choose for him." Mundy said. 

"Fine. It's a young gentleman… Why not  _ Diamant?" _

"What's that in English? Diamond?"

"Oui. The patch on his back is roughly shaped like a diamond, non?" 

"Yeah, that works… Ok, my turn for this baby boy, hm…" Mundy pondered. "He's black with only white paws so… uh…  _ Glove?" _

"Glove?" Lucien repeated. 

"Yeah, he looks like he's wearing white gloves." 

"It would sound a bit strange in French but it suits him, he shall be Glove then."

"And that last one?" Mundy asked. 

Lucien took her in his hand and scratched her head. The little kitten opened wide eyes and mewled. 

"You, you are a lady, mostly white, but with a black tail… Hm…" He left a gentle kiss in her fur. "What about  _ Encre?  _ It means  _ 'ink'  _ in French. She looks like she dipped her tail in some black ink."

Mundy smiled. 

"Go for Inky then! So in the end we have Star, Diamond, Glovy and Inky, right?"

"Or," Lucien translated, " _ Étoile, Diamant, Gant et Encre.  _ Oui, that works." 

They exchanged a smile and a peck on the lips and when they parted, Perle was meowing at them. 

"Meow."

"Oh, hello there pretty cat, who's that you brought with you, eh? Is that a friend?" 

Perle had returned with a black, short haired, adult cat. His eyes were green and he looked quite slimmer than her because of his shorter fur. 

" _ Bonjour, toi." _

_ [Hello, you.] _

The black cat approached and the kittens backed up in Lucien and Mundy's lap, mewling repeatedly. 

"Oh, they're scared, luv'." Mundy took two, one in each hand, and Lucien copied him. 

"This is the first time Perle brings a friend to me. Did you just happen to meet him or her?" Lucien asked his lady cat. 

"It's a he, luv'." Mundy corrected him. 

"Oh, my apologies,  _ bonjour Monsieur." _

[Hello, Sir.]

Lucien and Mundy watched as Perle and him brushed their fur against each other, the same way Perle brushed herself on their legs. Mundy looked at the kittens in his hands and back at the black cat, purring with Perle. 

"Oh, God…"

"What?" Lucien asked, oblivious. 

"That isn't her friend…" 

"What?" Lucien pulled the kittens to his chest defensively. He thought that Mundy had meant that cat was a threat. 

"No, love, he's… He's their dad, he's Perle's…  _ mate." _

Lucien's jaw dropped to the ground. 

"Look at the kittens, they're black and white and some have short hair, like him. The eyes match too, Star and Diamond have the same as he does." 

Perle purred as they both lied down one against the other, on the cloth. 

"This is the father of your children?" Lucien asked Perle. 

"Meow." She answered and both Lucien and Mundy watched as he spooned her and licked her clean.

"Grand Dieu…"

[Good Lord…]

"You can let go of the kids, he won't do anythin' to them."

"How can you be so sure?" Lucien asked.

"If he had wanted to harm them or scare them, he would have done it, regardless of us having them in our hands." Mundy said as he released the kittens. They trotted to their parents and laid down next to their mother. 

"He looks quite slim." 

"I guess he's a stray or something. We should feed him some."

"Wait-" Lucien interrupted him and put a hand on Mundy's. "Perle, I trust your judgement but I have to ask him a few questions."

"What?" Mundy chuckled. 

"This is extremely serious, Mundy, I won't let any stray approach Perle or her children, not on my watch."

Mundy rolled his eyes with a smile. Lucien's protective behaviour amused him. 

"She didn't exactly wait for you to give your blessing to go and do her business with him, eh?" 

"Oui, but still, I must insist. Perle has been my best friend for years now and it is the least I can do. So, Monsieur, what is your name? And what are your intentions with this family? I must warn you that if your answers are not satisfactory to me or Mundy, then we shall make sure you do not even lay a hair on Perle and her children. Now, some answers please." 

Mundy watched as the black cat answered by licking Perle's head, behind her ear. She turned and licked his head back. 

"A bit of decency please!" Lucien asked and Mundy chuckled again. "You may kiss the bride at the end if no one opposes this union, but for now, a name and an intention!" 

"My name's Soot and I intend to take care of Pearl and my kids if you don't mind." Mundy answered. 

"Soot?" Lucien repeated. 

"Yeah, cause I'm black, see?" 

"Oui, I can see very well, thanks. Now, do you promise to take care of Perle and her children until death do you apart?" Lucien went on, half dramatically. 

"Yeah, but which life are you talking about? I'm running on my third right now, eh." Mundy answered for the black cat. 

"Well, the third and all those who will come after!" Lucien replied. "Taking care of a family is the commitment of a lifetime and I will personally make sure that you treat Perle and her children in the best fashion."

"Love?" Mundy asked. 

"What?" 

"Look at them."

Perle and Soot rose to their feet. Perle trotted to her master and meowed, pushing her nose against the plastic bags with treats. Mundy opened it and laid a few on his palm. She took one and it crunched under her needle-like teeth. 

"Soot, c'mon boy, come and get yours." 

The black cat raised a paw but seemed hesitant. Perle looked at him and waved her tail gently. He took a step but not more so Mundy bent forward to meet him halfway. 

"Take it, I'm not the overprotective one, eh." 

Lucien raised an eyebrow. He was about to answer when Soot finally came closer and ate in Mundy's hand. 

"Good boy, that's it… Lu', give me your hand, and remove your gloves." 

Lucien obeyed and Mundy gave him a treat in his hand. 

"Give it to him."

"But-"

"Oi, c'mon, manners, this is Perle's hubby now." 

"Ah, oui, fine. My apologies, here you go Monsieur Soot." Lucien extended his arm and the cat took the treat. 

"Good boy." Mundy scratched his head before putting more treats on the ground. The whole family shared their snack under the sound of their teeth crushing them. 

Lucien leaned on Mundy's shoulder. 

"He reminds me of you." He said. 

"How? I don't have green eyes." Mundy joked. 

"Non, it is true, but you too were a bit of a wild stray up until we met, non?" 

Mundy wrapped an arm around Lucien and squeezed him. 

"Yeah, a bit. And then I met you, like Perle, awfully well-mannered and posh as all hell. And like Perle, you showed me there's more to life than the wild and lonely side of it."

"Hm, I think you are right. But this isn't the only common point." 

"Oh?" 

"Oui, Perle never had kittens when we were living in Paris. She likes her gentlemen exotic, so do I."

Mundy smiled. 

"I'm exotic now, am I?" 

"Oui, very much so. A delicacy from another hemisphere and another continent." 

"Ooh, I like the sound of that, eh…" Mundy bent down and they quickly kissed each other. 

"Meow?" 

They looked down. Perle had meowed. 

"Oui?" Lucien answered. 

Soot and her were sitting side by side and she leaned her head on him. 

"I think she's asking you if he can live with us, love."

Perle came forward and brushed herself on Mundy. 

"Yep, yeah she definitely is asking that." 

"Monsieur Soot," Lucien said, taking a treat in his hand. "Welcome home." He offered it to the cat who came closer and took it between his teeth. 

The cat sat between Lucien's crossed legs and rested his chin on the Frenchman's ankle. 

"C'mon, pet him, love, show him he's welcome here." 

Lucien obeyed and let his fingers approach Soot's head. It was shy at first but he quickly felt more comfortable as the male cat started purring. 

"Lu'?"

"Oui?" Lucien looked up at his lover who was petting Perle. 

"I think we're keepin' the kittens and Soot too." 

"I think so too, on one condition." 

Mundy raised an eyebrow. 

"You don't forget to take care of me too?" He asked with his fair blue eyes and that sight made Mundy's guts fuzzy and warm. 

"Don't worry, I won't." 


	93. Double date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I got a request, maybe sniper and spy decide to go on a double date with heavy and medic?"

There was a knock at the door. 

"Come in." 

"Are you ready - ah, yes, you are." Heavy entered Spy's suite. He found him putting on his coat. 

"So are you, I see." 

They both eyed each other and noticed how different they looked from when they wore their Mann Co. uniforms. Spy had put on a dark red suit with an assorted bowtie and white varnished shoes. He looked like a fish in a pond next to Heavy who had put on a tuxedo for the occasion but was visibly not as comfortable as his colleague. 

"Do I have my car keys…? Oui, right, let us go." And they exited the flat to soon find themselves in Spy's bright red Italian car. 

Of course, the Frenchman was driving. He put the key in and made the engine roar a sound that was only produced on dream cars, a rumbling worth more money than Heavy had ever spent. 

"C'mon doc', we'll be late!"

"Ja, just a minute!" 

And Medic proved to hold his word as a minute later, he emerged from his quarters, wearing a suit with a bowtie too. However, Sniper had just changed for non-Mann Co. clothing. 

"Bugger… Do I need to put on a suit for that?" He asked. 

"As you wish, although I'm sure Spy will show up with one." Medic answered. 

"Right…" Sniper winced. "Come to my van. You climb at the front, I'll get a change at the back…" 

They did as Sniper said and when the Aussie re-appeared behind the steering wheel, Medic didn't manage to hold a gasp. 

"What?" He shot an almost aggressive glance at the doctor. Sniper was clearly embarrassed. 

"Y-you look… Uh…" 

"Eyes on the map, in the glovebox, and tell me where that place is." 

Medic understood the message clearly enough and didn't discuss anything further. 

The trip took the mercenaries about an hour, a bit less and they arrived in town. 

Spy looked quickly at his colleague. How he managed to fit in his car was beyond him. 

"I wish you good luck, Heavy." 

"Thank you. I wish the same to you, Spy, though I know you won't need it." 

Spy raised an eyebrow and Heavy went on. 

"Sniper looks at you like the best thing that ever happened in his life. His eyes shine in a special way. Even Medic noticed it."

"I like to believe that Sniper is very obvious when it comes to his feelings."

"Da, but you are too, in your own way." 

"I am not." Spy coldly answered. 

"Hm." Heavy did not insist to avoid embarrassing his friend. They were tense enough as it was.

Meanwhile, in Sniper's van, the atmosphere was different. 

"So, uh…" Sniper scratched his cheek. "Ever been on a… a…"

"A date?" Medic asked. "I was once married, so yes, I've had lots of them by the past." 

"Ah, yeah." 

"Haven't you?" Medic asked back. 

"Not in a long time." 

The German doctor noticed that Sniper's fingers were drumming on the steering wheel nervously. He put a hand on his shoulder. 

"Don't be too nervous. I am sure it will go well." 

"I don't know, mate. Spy's a difficult bloke. I never know what he thinks or what he wants and he's got experience in those things, so much experience… It's like I'm a little boy next to him."

"Look at the good side of things."

"Which is?" Sniper asked. 

"He was either the one to suggest this date, or the one to accept it." 

Sniper looked at Medic. He was surprised to see that the crazy scientist could sometimes speak sense. 

" _ Bien." _ Spy stopped the car in front of the restaurant. "Here we are." 

[Well.]

Both him and Heavy exited the car and waited in front of the restaurant as they didn't see Sniper's iconic van. 

"They will arrive soon I hope." Heavy said. 

"No doubt." Spy was more confident in his ability to attract Sniper than Heavy was with Medic. "You will do just fine, Heavy. The only moments I have seen Medic behave almost like a human being are when he is in your company." 

Heavy looked down at his colleague who lit up a cigarette and puffed on it. Soon, the campervan arrived and parked a few metres away. The sun had set a long while ago so the only lights were shed by the lamp posts. Two silhouettes got out of the van, one taller than the other and with a hat. 

Heavy wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers while Spy crushed his cigarette and adjusted his tie. With a last look and a nod, they parted ways and Spy reconvened with Sniper. 

"I see you have found the place." He said. 

"Y-yeah, Medic helped. He uh, he had the map, I just had to follow the instructions." 

Spy smiled at how nervous Sniper seemed even though he couldn't see him clearly in the dimness of the night. 

"Shall we?" Spy offered his arm. 

"Uh…" Sniper's head shook left and right. He wasn't sure if he should take Spy's arm, publicly, like that. It was all a bit too much, or too fast. Spy understood and just extended his hand in the direction of the restaurant's entrance instead. 

"After you, Sniper."

"Right…" Sniper looked but couldn't see Medic and Heavy anymore, thus concluding they were already inside.

As soon as he entered, Sniper gasped silently as his jaw dropped and his lips parted visibly. He hadn't set foot in any similar place in his life so far. The restaurant had a very high ceiling, the floor was tiled and the chandeliers' shy yellow lights reflected on the floor. As Sniper looked down, he realised he could always see himself perfectly, despite the tiles being dark blue. The walls had magnificent paintings that were framed with gold painted wood and the walls themselves were Burgundy red with golden motifs. 

"Gosh…" 

Spy said something to a waiter and next thing he knew, Sniper was sitting in front of him, on a table lit by a single candle, sitting at the center of the small round table. Before he did sit down, Sniper removed his coat and hat and it was Spy's turn to drop his jaw. 

_ "Mon Dieu…"  _

_ [My God…] _

Hearing Spy's voice made Sniper zone back to reality brutally and face his gaze. He saw the very light blue eyes open wide and the pupils retracted to a dot. But it only flashed for a fleeting moment because Spy didn't let the surprise invade him. 

They sat down and were handed the menu. The light in the room was quite low, which was quite pleasant for the eyes. It helped them focus on what was important. Sniper hid behind the leather-bound menu and sometimes took a peek above it. Spy looked absolutely magnificent. His dark red jacket had a slight sheen to it which recalled the sparks that Sniper saw in his eyes, each time their gazes would cross. 

"So, have you made your choice?" 

"Uh, yeah, I think I did." Sniper answered, still shielding himself behind the menu. 

"You can put the menu down then."

"I-I could, yeah…" 

But somehow, Sniper didn't want to and he clung to the thing like a young boy would to his mum's skirt.

"Sniper?"

"Yeah?" 

"You may put the menu down." Spy repeated and this time, Sniper yielded. 

"Oh, Gosh…" Sniper's eyes opened as wide as planets and his pupils shrank. Between his last glance at Spy and now, the Frenchman had freed his face and hair from the last layer of cloth that covered them, taking Sniper utterly by surprise. 

"We are now even." Spy said. 

"Y-I-uh… I-I guess… Now I can see you and uh, you can see me." 

They took a moment to observe each other. One was confident in his looks and knew he could make any heart fall with just a flash of his pearly white teeth, while the other was red beyond his ears, awkward and uncomfortable as if he was naked. 

"That was not what I meant." Spy said while Sniper was still devouring him with his eyes. The Frenchman's eyes were bewitching, that, Sniper knew, but his hair was absolute poetry! It was elegantly combed back with a cinder lock at the front and grey temples. He also had a rebel front tuft that refused to follow the rest of his hair to fall between his eyes. Spy took great care of his hair, it shone beautifully under the chandeliers and candle light. 

"W-what?" Sniper snapped back to reality. "Sorry, what d'you mean?"

"I did not mean that we're even because I removed my balaclava."

"Why then?"

"Look at you." Spy started. "You made the effort to wear a suit, although you clearly aren't used to it. It's a shame you don't wear one to work, they make you more handsome." 

Sniper felt the wave of heat change into sweat on his entire body, but Spy continued.

"You also combed your hair back, added a bit of product to make it stay in place, you shaved and I can smell your perfume from here, a bit too strong for my liking, but that's only because you are nervous. Non Sniper, I meant that we are even because you made all these efforts for me while I made some for you too, although they do not appear as blatantly."

Their meals appeared on the table and they started digging in. Sniper didn't know what to answer so he just fell silent. That's when he realised that there was some music in the background. He raised his head and saw far from them, at the side of the dining area, a group of musicians. Hell that place was fancy… 

"You are remarkably handsome tonight is what I meant and I thank you for your efforts. They mean the world to me." 

Sniper tried to at least smile and nod but his shyness paralysed him and he just managed to pull his lips and lower his head. He was extremely tense and of course Spy noticed it. 

"Is it too much?" He asked. 

"What?" 

"What I said, did I go too far? Was it things that you don't want to hear?"

"N-no." 

Spy lowered his head with a sigh. He hadn't touched his meal and Sniper was pushing the food left and right, but couldn't eat either. 

"I had doubts this would be a bad idea. Now, I am sure." He concluded and simply left the table, leaving Sniper alone. 

The poor Aussie was not only confused but ashamed. It was because of him, again, that he lost a date. He lowered his head to the food in his plate. It didn't make sense, it was grey and bland. Sniper left the table too. He went to pay what he owed but was told Spy had already done so, and so he left the restaurant. 

He dragged his feet to his van, in the silence of the night, before unlocking it and climbing on the driver's seat. Sniper sighed. He was used to screwing up dates, forgetting them, being stood up, or making them go awfully bad. But this particular instance was hurting in a bitter way. He put his hands on the steering wheel and started the van. 

"You are leaving?" 

A voice said from next to him that made him jump on his seat and put a hand on his chest. In the darkness of the night, he didn't see that Spy was sitting where Medic had been half an hour before.

"I… I thought you left." Sniper answered. 

" _ Non _ ." Spy said as he retrieved a cigarette and lit it. 

_ [No.] _

"So uh… What do we do?"

"Go ahead and continue what you were doing. Pretend I am not here." Spy said and turned to look through the window. 

Sniper felt the pain inside. He had screwed it up  _ so much. _ There wasn't much left but to drive back to the base and sleep through the next day. So he exited the parking lot in front of the restaurant and drove away. 

The ride was dead silent and only the gentle rumble of the van's engine was audible, although it had melted in the background.

"Stop the van." Spy said. 

"What?" Sniper's head turned to him in a flash. 

"Stop the van." He repeated. 

"Here? In the middle of the desert?" Sniper asked but Spy's eyes riveted on his were more than clear and Sniper obeyed, parking the car on the dusty ground of the desert, a few meters away from the asphalt.

As the van's noise stopped, the tension grew louder. Spy opened the door and slipped out. Sniper thought that he had needed a quick "pit stop" as they called them for formula 1 cars, but soon, he heard some noise coming from above his head. 

Utter confusion. What the hell was Spy doing on his van's rooftop? Why would he go there? Nah, it surely was nothing. Sniper shook his head and waited for Spy to come back. But after ten minutes, he still hadn't. Sniper sighed and decided to investigate. He got out of the van and looked around. Spy was nowhere to be found. 

"Up here, if you are looking for me." 

Sniper looked up and indeed Spy was sitting cross-legged on the van's rooftop. Sniper went to the ladder at the back and climbed up. 

"What are you doing here? I thought you asked me to stop to take a p-"

"To fill one of your filthy jars?" Spy cut him. " _ Non _ . I needed guidance." 

_ [No.] _

Sniper sat down next to him. 

"You prayin'?" He asked, seeing how Spy's eyes were riveted on the sky. 

"Almost." He answered. "I am asking for help, but not from God. If he did exist, why did I live such a miserable life? How was that part of the plan? To give me a lady that would be my wife and a son, only to take them away from me. But still, to keep him so close to me that it hurts every day of this life, having to see him and remember better, sweeter times. Having to see him and knowing that things could have been much different, things could have gone splendidly better. But non, apparently the plan wasn't that, non, the plan was to make me suffer every day I cross his gaze because I see her and I see the life I could have led." 

Sniper's jaw dropped.

"And then they did something." 

"Who?" Sniper asked.

"Them." Spy pointed up. "They broke the curse, they took me out of that infernal spiral and saved me. But they didn't do that in a snap of their fingers.  _ Non _ . They sent someone. A wingless angel. Someone whose sight takes off all the burdens I've ever carried on my shoulders. His mere presence brings peace to my tormented soul. He graces me with the gift of joy, and brings back feelings that had died in me. The flutters of the heart, the blush on my cheeks, even though hidden behind my mask. He is a godsent to me, only I know it wasn't God who sent it to me, it can't be. Why would he make me suffer so hard to then just simply flip it all over with the presence of that man, hm?"

"Maybe God just wants you to think less harshly about yourself." 

Spy turned his eyes to Sniper. 

"I mean, it's like you had a curse or something, but you seem to say that it's going better, right?" 

" _ Oui _ . That tall, handsome man has lifted the curse. Each time he gathers the courage to look into my eyes, I can feel all sorts of things in my chest that no other feeling but love can produce. I breathe more heavily, my heart beats faster but my eyes blink slower, because I want time to stretch, I want this to last. It is selfish, but I want his attention on me for as long as possible. Not only do I like the way he looks at me, as if I could bring him any fragment of happiness, but he blesses me with the peace I have yearned for without even knowing it. And he's the only one able to calm the waves of my torment here, inside." Spy tapped his chest. "Thank you, Sniper." 

Sniper choked on his own saliva and cleared his throat. He froze when Spy took his arm between his and leaned on his shoulder. 

"Y-you think all that… about  _ me _ ?" He asked. 

"Oui." Spy closed his eyes as the proximity with the body he had dreamt of was overwhelming. "But please." He parted from Sniper and looked up at him. "Please tell me that you feel the same. Please tell me that your shyness only tries to hide how you too feel this way for me, and not how repulsive you find me. Please tell me that… That I am not putting all my hopes for peace somewhere where they would be wasted and thrown away. At my age, I don't think I will ever find someone with whom I could share my days and my worries." 

Spy pleaded with his eyes, implored with his voice but nothing came out of Sniper's lips. And the silence spoke louder than anything else around them in the darkness of the night. 

"I… I realise how pathetic I sound, how both desperate and done I am with life. I do apologise if I wasted your time, if I forced you to do anything you didn't want to. Forgive me. It was only an old, tired man thinking he had found a bit of solace. I shall not bother you more." 

Spy looked up at the stars and addressed them. 

"Thank you and damn you. Thank you for making me feel those tremors everywhere, that magic spell inside that makes one forget his worries ever existed. And damn you. To hell with you and the false hopes you gave me. I hope you are laughing at the miseries you put me through and how badly they break me. You would be the only ones laughing, I don't have the strength for self pity or laughing at myself anymore."

Spy stood up and turned to get down off the van's rooftop. Sniper stood up in a flash and held him back from his sleeve, awkwardly. 

"W-wait." 

"What? You too want to laugh? Be quick about it. I would like to get back home with a bit of dignity left in me." 

"Shut up." Sniper pulled him more strongly than Spy had anticipated he could and the Frenchman crashed against Sniper's chest, his arms wrapping him tight and close. "You talk too much." 

Tears went to Spy's eyes as his body was against the one man he had wanted for weeks now. His solace, his ray of light through his dark life. Sniper's hand went behind Spy's head, through the silk of his hair and his other one on his lower back, clinging to him, almost clawing. 

Spy buried his head on Sniper's chest and let the tears do what they wanted. If they wanted to roll down and cover him in disgrace, so be it. He closed his eyes.

"You talk too much and I can't talk as much. It's… I'm… I'm sorry I can't. I'm sorry I'm bad with words. But no, of course I won't laugh at you, you idiot." Sniper's hand clenched harder on Spy's hair. "I won't laugh at you. I… Bugger! I can't speak."

Spy's hands laced around Sniper's sides and clawed on his back. 

"I love you, Sniper." 

Sniper looked down between his arms and Spy was looking up at him, his eyes more than glistening. 

"I love you like the desperate man I am." 

"Don't say that. You're not desperate okay? Oh, Gosh…" And Sniper tightened the hug again because it was what both of them needed. Spy's tears finally won over as Sniper rested his cheek on top of Spy's head. "You're not desperate. I'm… I'm here, ok? I'm here now. I'm… I love you too, bloody hell." 

Spy's breath broke out of sync as he started sobbing against Sniper's shirt. Sniper stayed there, immobile, for long minutes, absorbing all the waters of his lover's liberation. Spy needed to cry. He needed to mark the end of the curse, he needed to celebrate it and rather than jumping out of joy, his body had chosen to wash the bitterness away in tears. So be it. Sniper massaged Spy's scalp. The Frenchman was mumbling through his sobs and the Aussie didn't know if it was French, English or complete gibberish. He just took it all away from Spy. And when the Frenchman had drenched Sniper's shirt to the point where he could feel the cold wetness on his very skin, Spy raised his head. 

" _ Je t'aime, _ I love you. I love you so much, I am so sorry."

[I love you.]

And Sniper understood that for the past minutes, Spy had been just repeating those words on loop, like a broken disc. He looked down straight in his eyes and gathered enough courage to face the man who was literally breaking down because he loved him that much. Sniper answered. 

"I love you too, I love you too, don't be sorry, I love you." 

Spy's lips pursed in a smile. He was crying what were maybe the happiest tears of his life.


	94. Reciprocal Jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Request: Lucien tries to make mundy jealous, mundy tried to make Lucien jealous as a response, Ludwig/medic is somehow caught in the middle of this. Ludwig/medic did not sign up for this and Is very done."

* * *

_ "Bonjour _ , two coffees please, a long one and an espresso. Thank you,  _ Mademoiselle."  _

Spy was at the counter, ordering from the waitress. Sniper looked at him from the table. The waitress was giggling and blushing, covering her mouth with her hand. What the hell was Spy telling her…? Oh and now she was showing him something, a piece of paper? And now she was scribbling on it?

The Frenchman sat down, a smile still lingering on his lips. That irresistible grin somehow stung the Aussie, in his chest. It was a delicious sight, the Frenchman's pearly white teeth flashing between his thin lips… But it hurt too! Knowing that the Aussie wasn't the source of that small burst of happiness, of the pink on Spy's cheeks. It made his eyebrows ever so slightly twitch. 

"Got the coffees?" 

Spy sat opposite his colleague. 

"Oui, they shall arrive shortly." He answered, his eyes never leaving the young waitress in her short skirt and work apron. 

"So, uh," Sniper tried to interrupt his staring. "Got any plans for today?" 

"Apart from sharing my breakfast with you, Bushman? Non, not really." 

The waitress came to their table. 

"Who's the long coffee?"

"My friend here." Spy answered. 

"So you're the espresso, right?" 

_ "Exactement." _ The Frenchman answered with one those trademarked smiles of his, those that made the clocks stop around Sniper.

_ [Exactly.] _

Spy carded his hair back with a nonchalant hand, brushing through his salt and pepper silky locks. Something burnt inside Sniper and the waitress left them. Silence fell at the table and Spy was smiling to himself still. Sniper couldn't help but stare at him. He shouldn't because the longer he kept his eyes on him, the more painful it was. 

Spy finally broke the silence. 

"Actually, I might do something today." He said, his irises following the young woman. "It depends, it might be a bit foolish of me." 

Sniper downed his bitter coffee. 

"Roight, I'll be in the van." He left the table, fuming with - he would never admit it - jealousy. 

When he slipped in the van, he slammed its door shut and crossed his arms on his chest. His breath was fast and angry, dry and hot. He had never thought about it but now it sounded and looked obvious. If Spy always accepted his invitations to go to town, maybe it was  _ just _ to get some fresh air. Maybe he just saw him as a convenient chauffeur, and a quite entertaining one at that! Sniper had always tried to make his small talk as interesting as he could… Bah, he had never been the chatty type, even though he thought his friendship with Spy was helping him on that front. Apparently not, or not enough. 

About a minute later, Spy appeared in the van. 

"I apologise if I put you late for something, Sniper." 

"Nah, it's fine." 

The van roared and off they went, on their way back to the base. 

Sniper was cold and distant. He didn't try to initiate any conversations, and kept answering Spy with one-word sentences. The Frenchman sensed the uneasiness, the discomfort. He decided against pushing Sniper. Whatever caused him to fall silent and frown, biting his cheek, wasn't something the Aussie looked ready to discuss. 

They spent the rest of their day each in their own world. Spy had stayed in the confines of his suite, while Sniper had hung out with the rest of his colleagues. 

At the dinner table, only Spy was missing. 

"You're not havin' dinner with fancypants tonight?" Scout asked Sniper as he sat down. 

"Nah." 

"You got into an argument?" 

Sniper raised his eyes and their shine sliced the room. 

“Finish yer fries, laddie.” Demo interrupted them before Sniper murdered his young colleague.

Dinner was spent normally for most mercenaries. Only Sniper was staring emptily at his plate, but Demo noticed it. So after dinner, he went to his Australian colleague, drinking some beer on his own.

“Hey, lad.”

“Hey.”

“What’s wrong? Wanna talk about it?”

Sniper looked left and right, making sure no one else would eavesdrop on them.

“It’s…”

“Is it Spy?”

Sniper nodded, his head still lowered.

“Go on, tell me.” Demo got closer to his friend and talked low.

“He’s… It’s me, I got funny ideas again but it was all in my head.” He sighed.

“Oh, I’m sorry for you. You’re a good man, he’ll regret it.” Demo took a swig of his scrumpy.

“Don’t think so.”

“Why?”

“He uh… He met someone today and uh… I don’t want to sound weird but…”

“You can tell me, mate,” Demo said. “I’m just here to listen, not to judge.”

“Yeah, well. She’s young and a sheila at that. He didn’t stop staring at her, smilin’ like a bloody idiot. I saw him take his car and drive off a bit before dinner and uh…”

“You think he went to have dinner or something with her?”

Sniper turned to face the window. He could almost see it before his eyes. Spy and that young woman, on a table for two, a candle in the middle, his eyes shining and half-lidded, drowning in her eyes… 

“Ugh!” He shook his head and his shoulders, a shiver slithered up his spine.

“Sniper, look. I’m uh, yeah, I’m sorry for you. You liked him a lot, eh?”

The Australian smiled.

“Understatement of the century, yeah. He uh… He'd do nothing and I'd feel so good just looking at him. And when he looks back, Gosh… It's like gettin' punched but by his eyes."

"Woah, didn't know you liked him that much." Demo put a hand on Sniper's shoulder and patted him on the back. "Sorry it didn't go the way you want, lad…"

"You know what hurts the most? It's knowing that now, I can't see him the same. It's like… If I were to see him now, I'd feel the butterflies again and it's like he didn't hurt me at all. I'd uh… Bah, forget it." Sniper removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. 

Demo was out of words, so he just wrapped an arm around his shoulders and tapped his shoulder. 

Unbeknownst to them, Spy entered the living-room and all his eyes saw was Demoman comforting his friend. Now Sniper was lowering his head and Demo hugged him. 

Spy's lips parted in surprise and his very bones froze, stinging everywhere. When his cigarette hit the floor, he was already back in his suite. 

Sniper's head jerked up. 

"What?" Demo asked. 

"Don't you smell it?" 

"Smell what?" 

Sniper sniffed the air left and right. He let the scent guide his feet until he arrived at its source. 

"What the… Where?" 

He looked down and Demo saw him pick something up from the floor. 

"What is it, lad?" 

Sniper turned to his friend holding a cigarette that had hardly been consumed. 

"Bugger…" 

"What's the matter lad?"

"Don't you understand?!" Sniper almost shouted. 

"No, I don't." Demo frowned. 

"Look!" Sniper brandished the cigarette. 

"It's a cigarette."

"Yeah! But look at it! It's barely been smoked and have you ever seen Spy ever drop one?" 

Demo's eye went left and right, rummaging through his memory. 

"No…?"

"He was there a minute ago and left too quickly. Something's wrong, he'd never waste one of his cigs." Sniper puffed on it and his shoulders sank and relaxed. "Gosh it's really one of his…" He melted. 

"Sniper, look-"

"I gotta see what's wrong with him." Sniper turned on his heels, ignoring his friend and headed for the Frenchman's room. 

"No, wait!" Demo stood in front of him and blocked his way. "What's the matter with ya? One minute you're sad cause he left you and the next you wanna throw yerself into his arms?!" 

"Nah," Sniper looked down at Demo's eye. "I never stopped wanting to throw myself in his arms. That's my problem." And he pushed his colleague out of the way gently to knock on the Frenchman's door. 

"Go to hell!" Was the answer he received.

"Spook…" Spy's ears pricked up. He hadn't expected Sniper to come and visit him, not after what he saw. "It's me." 

"Did I stutter? Or perhaps you did not understand it in English?" 

Spy sounded furious, even through the wooden door with the knife symbol on it. How did Sniper dare show his face to him after he clearly had misled the Frenchman for weeks? Spy had always taken the time for him - no, actually, he had always  _ made _ the time for him. He had accepted all the invitations that Sniper made to take him to town, have a drink, or something to eat. Hell, Spy even never dared suggest anything on his own, because he wanted the shy, antisocial and introverted Aussie to feel at ease with him, to take things at  _ his  _ pace.

And all these efforts amounted to what? Sniper hugging Demoman.  _ Demoman _ of all people!  _ Putain de merde!  _ Was it not clear enough through their banter, through the nights spent under the stars in the cold, just to watch the stars with him? Ha! Talking about that, Sniper never realised that when he was busy unravelling the mysteries of the universe to Spy, the Frenchman was absorbed in the stars, but not those in the sky. He didn't raise his head that far up to see them, non, he only had to look in the depth of the Aussie's pupils, in his kind, lagoon irises. That was where the stars were, that was where they came from, the sparks that made Spy's body fizz up everywhere…

All that happened in the best and the worst of secrets, right under the Aussie's nose but never clearly enough for him to see it. 

"Spook, please." Sniper knocked again and Spy sighed. He pushed himself to stand and went to the door that he opened in a flash.

"What do you want?" 

"A-are you alright?" Sniper asked. "I found one of your cigs on the floor. It was barely lit and uh, I know you wouldn't waste them…" 

Spy raised an annoyed eyebrow. 

"...  _ They're bloody expensive, eh?"  _

Spy sighed and let Sniper in. 

"So, uh, what's the problem…?" Sniper asked while Spy crossed the room to sit back on his sofa. He lit a cigarette and stared emptily in front of him. 

Silence fell. Spy was furiously jealous of that embrace Sniper shared with Demoman. It made his heart shatter like glass, the shards of which he was now too old to pick up. He blew the smoke of his cigarette. 

"Are you going to stand awkwardly there?" He said. "If so, then you don't have anything to say to me, thus making your presence absolutely unnecessary. You know where the door is." 

Spy's voice was cold and scathing. Sniper took a deep breath as if to gather the strength from the air he pumped in his lungs, and he went to sit on the sofa too. 

"I don't have anything to say to you, I'm just here cause I know something's not right with you." Sniper answered and Spy felt the hint of some vexation in the Aussie's voice. "But if you're gonna be a mongrel about it, alright, I'll tell you what I think is wrong with you…" 

Spy raised a curious eyebrow and interrupted him. 

" _ Pardon?  _ Something is wrong with  _ me?" _ He asked, with a hand to his chest. "Non, Bushman, I think I have been perfectly honest and clear. For once, I did not mess anything up by lying or anything of the sort!" 

Sniper nodded with an almost cruel smile. 

"Oh so she stood you up? It wasn't just that she didn't like you back?" 

Spy frowned. 

" _ Pardon?"  _ His native tongue came to him faster than English and he was too irritated to correct himself. "What are you talking about?" 

"That sheila you went to have dinner with! The one who gave you her number this mornin' at the café, cause that's what she wrote on that paper she gave you, wasn't it?!" Sniper was now angry. 

"Bushman, what  _ on Earth  _ have you invented?!"

" _ Invented?  _ Me?" Sniper repeated, rage boiling inside him. "I saw it with my own eyes, you wanker! She gave you her number and next thing I know, you don't come out for lunch and drive off right before dinner!"

"So you conclude I went to have dinner with that woman?" Spy asked.

"Yeah, well, is there anythin' else I should get? Oh, yeah, actually, there is! You come back to the base so pissed off that you shout at me when I knock on yer door and you throw away one of your cigs! So yeah, I think she didn't wanna get a second date at the very least!" 

Spy sighed and facepalmed. His hand sank down his face. 

"Oh so you imagine I spend my time with someone I've hardly met while  _ you _ -" Spy pointed an accusative index finger on Sniper. " _ You  _ fall into Demoman's arms like that!" Spy snapped his fingers. 

Sniper's eyes opened as wide as planets and his pupils shrank to a dot. 

"But let us dwell on something else first, shall we?" Spy continued. "Why  _ on Earth _ would you care if I saw that woman again?"

Sniper's lips parted but no sound came out. Yes he did care very much and it had ripped him apart on the inside when he had seen Spy exchange smiles and sweet gazes with that sheila… But wait, Sniper frowned as he found a come back to that. 

"Wait, hold on, you saw Demo with me?" 

"Anyone could have! You were in the middle of the living-room! And to think that I thought you shy and prude, you hide your true nature very well, I would be scared for my own position if not for one reason." 

"What?"

"What you think I spent my day doing just shows how incompetent a spy you would be." Spy explained, his voice calming down.

"I'm not scared to lose my job. You're shit at aimin'." Sniper answered, just to have the last word. 

Silence fell. 

"You are an  _ imbécile."  _ Spy looked at the emptiness in front of him.

"And you're an idiot." Sniper tilted his head that he held low. 

"The waitress this morning, she didn't give me her phone number, and I didn't drive to her before dinner."

Sniper turned his head to Spy. 

"She complimented my looks and pointed out the fact that I looked like a certain actor, her favourite, she mistook me for him. She showed me a picture of him and I could see the resemblance but I explained she was making a mistake. I then asked her to write down his name, which she did. _ That _ is what she scribbled on this piece of paper." Spy retrieved it from his pocket and tossed it on the sofa. Sniper didn't need to look at it. Something in Spy's voice convinced him that he was telling the truth. "But what about you? And Demoman? Why would you invite me for drinks or to just stroll in the city if Demoman is close to you?"

"I… I was pissed off because I really thought that sheila just got you with a snap of her fingers. I was ventin' to him, I was telling him how - argh, anyway, I just talked to Demo and he was sorry for me. He just gave me a pat on the back, is all." 

Spy raised an eyebrow staring in his eyes.

"I swear, it was just that, nothin' more." Sniper insisted and Spy's eyes went to the floor. He was convinced. "But where did you fly off to before dinner then?" 

"I went to town to get this." Spy stood up and went to the TV, next to it was a video cassette. He came back to the sofa and handed it to Sniper. 

"What's that?" 

"A video cassette. It's one of the movies with the man who looks like me. I had hoped that you would accept watching it with me tonight. I was on my way to ask you and expected to spend the evening by your side, laughing at how you would mock him, or me, for our resemblance. I do admit it is one of those romantic movies that would make me gag otherwise. But…"

"But what?" Sniper flipped the cassette and observed it in his hand before raising his eyes to Spy. 

"But since a few weeks, even the atrociously cheesy songs on the radio make sense. Their lyrics get to me the way they do each time it happens."

"Each time what happens?" Sniper asked. 

"Each time I fall in love." 

The air stilled in the room.

"And since we are being truthful," Spy started and closed his eyes to push the end of the sentence out of himself. "The surprise of seeing Demoman's arms around you made me drop my cigarette. But that is not what made me spin on my heels and go back to my room." 

"What then?" Sniper asked. 

"Can't you guess?" 

"N-no, I don't know…" 

"I presume it is the same thing that made you leave the café hurriedly this morning." Spy said and Sniper understood. 

"Y-you were jealous?" The Aussie asked, not believing that the word was exiting his own lips. 

"As much as you were when you thought I was having dinner with that young woman." 

"Gosh…" 

Spy crushed his cigarette butt in the ashtray on the coffee table in front of him. 

"Now you know everything of my whereabouts for today. You may leave if you so wish." 

Sniper looked at the cassette in his hand. 

"Spook?" 

"Oui?" 

"When you said you fell in love… was it…?"

"With you? Oui." Spy answered calmly. "But I can understand if the feeling is far from mutual. After all, you have seen me without my mask and thus guessed that my age isn't quite yours." 

"Pfff…" 

"I know. It pains me to think that I used to be able to seduce anyone I wanted back when my hair was black. Now, I cannot even look you in the eye for too long."

"Neither can I." Sniper added. 

"You find me that repulsive then? Fine. I shall not bother you and take of your precious time any longer." Spy got up and went to the door. 

Sniper stood up and followed him. 

"I wish you a good night, Sniper." 

When Spy's eyes rose to Sniper, they were filled with heartbreak and grief. There was a form of defeat too. If Spy had always been a womanizer and a formidable love partner, his age now made him just powerless. He just had to accept that he wasn't attractive or charming anymore. He opened the door for Sniper.

"Right, I'll keep the cassette." The Aussie said. 

"Why?" Spy asked, confused.

"I don't want you to watch it with anyone else." 

Spy's eyes shone brighter and Sniper smiled. He pushed the door to shut it again, staying in Spy's room. 

"I wanna watch this bloke who looks like you with you. But uh, I'm not a big fan of movies… I just prefer the real thing." 

Spy bit his lip to contain his excitement as Sniper's grin widened. 

"What if we still watch it tonight?" Spy asked, almost too innocently for himself. 

"Yeah, I'd like that." 

Spy felt like he lost ten years. He took the cassette off Sniper's hand and put it on. When he sat on the sofa, Sniper was next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Spy felt warm and fuzzy on the inside. The movie started and he glued his eyes to the screen. Sniper, however, had his eyes on Spy. 

"Hey, Spook?" 

"Hm?" Spy raised his light blue eyes to him.

"I love you too." 

Spy gasped and covered his mouth with his hand. He was paralysed and stayed in that position for a few seconds, just to digest the words. It didn't fail to make Sniper a bit uncomfortable. 

"R-right, so, uh, the bloke, in the movie, uh… oh…" 

Spy leaned on Sniper's shoulder. He went to find his hand and held it, sliding his own fingers between the Aussie and clenching. Sniper clenched back. 

"I am in love as if I was twenty again." Spy said.

"Shame." Sniper answered and Spy raised his head. "I like'em old." 

"Rude, but appreciated."

Sniper rested his head on top of Spy's and their eyes finally went to the screen. 

"Hold on, that bloke, he doesn't look like you at all, in fact, he kinda looks like-"

"You, oui." 

"What the hell?!" 

Spy's chuckles against Sniper's chest had all kinds of effects on the Aussie. 

"I agree with you, Bushman. I am not a big fan of movies, I just prefer the real thing."

"You liar…" Sniper tightened his hug on his lover and Spy moaned. 

"Only when it gets me where I want, in your arms."


	95. Overprotective Mundy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Overprotective Mundy please 🥺"

* * *

"Scout, you said you were going to use the atrocity you dare call an energy drink to distract them so I assume I could go to try and sap their sentry!" 

"Yeah well you didn't say anythin' so I wasn't sure!" Scout shrugged. 

The mercenaries were in the living room, some watching the TV, others chatting. But when Spy and Scout resumed the fight they had during dinner, all the eyes moved to them.

"I was in the middle of them trying not to raise suspicions! What should I have done? Open my mouth and say loud and clear  _ 'Oui, Scout please, go and distract the sentry now, I shall proceed to sap it.' ?!"  _

"Anyway, it's not my fault we lost!" Scout said. "It's all you cause you didn't use that damn sapper of yours." 

Spy rolled his eyes and sighed, abandoning the infertile argument.

"You stupid!" Scout added and in the living room, the eyes were now on Spy.

"Oi…" Sniper's voice, or rather his husky mumble, sliced through the conversation. "Call him stupid again and you'll find a bullet bigger than what ye have between yer legs between your eyes."

"Ooh, Snipes is wakin' up here? Defendin' your boyfriend?" 

"Scout…" Spy warned him. 

"No, no that's cool, never heard the guy bein' menacing or something."

"Don't provoke me, mate. Just stop saying we lost because of him, we didn't. We lost as a team."

"Nah, I say we lost because of fancypants."

The eyes around the room went from Scout to Sniper, back and forth. 

"You know I'm right!"

"Nah, you aren't. You're talkin' nonsense." 

"Yeah I am, he's been useless!" 

Sniper turned his eyes to Scout. 

"Say that one more time." He said as calmly as the sea before the worst of storms. 

"Well, he's useless." Scout repeated just to tease and see what would happen. 

Sniper sprang up the sofa, walked to him and faster than Spy thought he could, he took the young man by his collar and slammed him against the nearest wall. Scout's back hit it with a thud. 

"You take that back." Sniper said slowly.

"Sniper!" Spy went to him and put his gloved hand on his shoulder. "It isn't worth it. We both know he just says what he says to draw our attention to himself."

"Y-yeah-nnh!?" Scout tried to speak but Sniper's clenched fists on his neck were hurting his throat. 

"You take that back." Sniper repeated. "And you stop talking shit about Spy right here, right now." 

"I don't - nnh - I don't care, I'm tellin' the truth, your boyfriend fucking sucks - ooh!" 

Sniper lifted Scout off the ground, sliding him against the wall to be at his eye level. He got closer to him, staring into his eyes, less than an inch away from his face. 

"You really want me to make a necklace outta your teeth?"

"Sniper, please." Spy asked. 

"Nah, he must learn to watch his loud mouth and not insult people, not you." Sniper answered.

"Alright, alright! Nnh-! Let me go!" 

"Apologise." Sniper wanted to teach Scout a lesson, and he knew the best way to a loud mouth's head was his ego. Making him say sorry in front of everyone would make sure that he would not do it again.

"O-ok, I'm sorry - aargh!"

Sniper frowned and flared his nostrils, putting just a bit more pressure on Scout.

"I said I'm sorry! Let me go!"

Sniper let go and Scout landed on the floor on all four. He coughed and eased the pain on his neck. 

"Jeez… You're a freak…" 

Sniper looked down at him, his blue eyes flashing. 

"Want a second round?" 

Scout winced. His throat hurt too much to speak, he raised his hands in surrendering. He gathered enough strength to stand up and just for the fun of it, Sniper twitched at him, as if he really were to jump at Scout. The young man yelped and darted away. 

Spy waited for Sniper to turn to him. He lowered his head and left to his suite. Sniper's confident smile disappeared. He released the breath he had been holding and went after him. 

He entered after his usual two knocks and found Spy on his sofa. Sniper closed the door gently and crossed the room to sit next to his lover. 

"Uh," He started. "I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't have gone that far with Scout. It just… It got to me, alright? I don't like people saying bad stuff about you." 

Spy was staring emptily in front of him. 

"Spook?" 

"I should tell you off and were things different, I would have left you." The Frenchman said. "The way you behaved was almost insulting to me, as if I couldn't take care of Scout, who is about half my age, on my own." 

"But…?" Sniper almost whispered. He wished so hard there was a 'but'. 

"But I realised that no one in their lives and in their right minds had ever done that to me. No one had ever… stood up for me."

"Sorry… Again, I just… It's unfair that Scout said those things and I couldn't stand back and watch. I… It doesn't really look like me but I couldn't stay sat there listening to him." 

Spy shifted to sit closer to Sniper and leaned on him. Sniper wrapped his arms around him and pulled him to himself. 

"I love you, Spook. I just… I don't want anything to get to you."

Spy threw his balaclava away and like a reflex, Sniper slid his fingers in the Frenchman's hair. 

"You don't deserve that he said any of this." 

"Oui, but it's only Scout. To be honest, I had given up arguing with him. Let him say what he wants, I would prove him wrong before he knows it. But then you stepped in and, well, I found myself falling for you even harder." 

"Really?" Sniper asked, kneading through Spy's scalp. 

"Oui…" Spy purred, the head massage was getting to him. "This protective side of yours, I did not know you had it. If anything, so far, I was the older one, the rock on which I just expected you to lean on." 

"You might be older, but I'm here for you as much you're here for me. That's what I mean when I say I love you." Sniper ended his sentence with a kiss on Spy's head, through his hair, his perfume lingering. 

Spy moaned in satisfaction. 

"I love you too… My overprotective kangaroo." Spy raised his head below Sniper's jaw and kissed his neck, holding on to his chest.

"Pff, you can talk, you old frog." Sniper's arms closed on his lover and they ended up lying on the sofa, their limbs mingled and their breaths slow and long. 

The flames in the fireplace crackled and through Sniper and Spy’s grins, sweet whispers carried them through the evening.


	96. Kangarus Irresistiblus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "May I have sniper being in a very depressed mood and spy tries to be silly to cheer him up. Maybe gets perle involved in this"

* * *

"Meow." 

" _ Bonjour, ma belle."  _

[Hello, my beauty.]

Perle jumped on the sofa. Lucien was reading his magazine. 

"Meow?" 

"I don't know either. It seems Papa Mundy is having a bad day today. I tried talking to him but he is tightly wrapped in the duvet and he doesn't want to get out of it."

"Meow…"

"Oui, poor him." Lucien put his magazine aside. "I gave him all the morning on his own but he doesn't seem to feel any better."

"Meow." 

"Oui. We need to do something. Come with me, maybe we will manage together." 

They went to the bedroom and Spy opened the door slowly. The room was dark and when his eyes got used to it, he saw the same mass curled in a ball under the sheets. 

_ "Mon amour…?"  _

_ [My love…?] _

Sniper took a deep breath and exhaled in a long sigh. Perle found the edge of the duvet and pulled it off. 

"Mmh…" Sniper grumbled and pulled the duvet back on himself. 

"Meow!" Perle scratched the duvet as if she was digging it with her fluffy white paws. 

"Ah, I see the kangaroo likes to hibernate on cold days."

"Meow?"

"I too thought that only the ostrich could bury its head under the sand, but apparently the Australian kangaroo can bury his entire self under his nest…"

"Meow." 

"Oui, the  _ kangarus irresistiblus  _ is quite a peculiar species, Perle. They are quite wild and untamed but so beautiful…" 

Lucien slid his hand under the duvet. He fumbled a bit but finally found Mundy's. 

"They have large paws with rough, calloused pads." Lucien's fingers brushed Mundy's forearm. "Their fur is quite soft and their hide is priceless. But Perle, this species is endangered."

"Meow?"

"What it means is that" Mundy grabbed Lucien's hand and pulled it to himself, under his neck to hug it better. "There are very few left of them. In fact, as the last count goes, there is but one left and we are lucky enough to watch him here, in his almost natural habitat." 

"Meow." 

"Non, it isn't. You see, the  _ kangarus irresistiblus _ lives in a den that he transports wherever he goes, a bit like a snail with his shell. In scientific terms, we call his habitat a  _ 'van.' _ He transports it, or the other way around, and he lives like a poet, from one adventure to the next. But Lucien, I hear you ask, does this unique species really not have a permanent home?" 

"Meow." 

"Indeed, they do have one." Lucien's hand stroked Mundy's neck up to his jaw and cheek, from underneath the duvet still. He cupped his face and lied on the bed himself. He brushed Mundy's cheek with his thumb. "His permanent home is here… Let me show you…" 

Lucien rummaged to find Mundy's hand. He held it and pulled it out of the duvet until it touched his chest. 

"Here. Here is where he lives, and will live, forever." 

Mundy's eyes opened under the duvet. He felt the Frenchman's heart beat gently below his palm. 

"He is the only one of his kind and he takes all the space in my heart."

"Meow!" 

"You too, Perle, you're in there with him. But I don't love you like I love him." 

Mundy pulled Lucien's hand underneath the duvet again and cuddled with it. Perle slipped underneath it too and Lucien heard her soon purr and guessed that she was brushing herself against Mundy. 

"Do you think I could perhaps invite myself in his dwelling or would that be intrusion?" 

And Mundy's answer was clear. He pulled on Lucien's arm with both his hands and wrapped him in the duvet too. 

" _ Bonjour."  _

_ [Hello.] _

Mundy hugged Lucien's head under his jaw and the Frenchman stuck his body against the Aussie. 

"Love you…" Mundy mumbled as his legs now wrapped Lucien too. 

"Mmh… So do I. But why can't you leave the bed? What is wrong…?" 

"Don't know. I just don't feel it. One of these days I guess…" 

"One of these days? Does that happen often?" 

"Sometimes."

"Do you need me to do anything?" Lucien asked. 

"Just… Just stay with me… Here… Please?" 

"Do you need me to hold you?" 

"I-I don't know. I want to hold you and I want you to hold me too. It's weird. I'm sorry." 

"Non…" Lucien closed his limbs around Mundy too. "It is fine." 

They spent a few minutes in silence, holding on to each other, Mundy almost clinging to him.

"Lu'...?"

"Oui,  _ mon coeur." _

_ [Yes, my sweetheart.] _

"I uh… I had a nightmare." 

Lucien opened his eyes. 

"You want to tell me about it?" 

"Not sure. But that's why I… Want you to hold me." Mundy gulped down audibly. "I-I know it's childish and uh…"

"I do not care." Lucien answered. 

"What?"

"If you need me, just say so. I do not care if you think the reason makes sense or not. If you need me to do anything for you, just tell me. I am here for you, Mundy." 

"Gosh, I love you so much…" Mundy buried his head on his lover's, in his hair and took a deep breath of his scent, his perfume. It smelled of elegance and refinement, but also, Lucien smelled like…  _ home. _

The Frenchman kissed his neck, small, soft kisses, almost nibbles, just to comfort him, and Mundy's hands clawed harder. 

"I dreamt you were tired of me and you just… You went away." 

"I would never do that. If anything I'm the old man tired of life and you are the young man full of energy. You would be the one leaving."

"What are you talkin' about? I won't leave you, you're not old, you… You're a hell of a patient bloke, y-you're bloody brave too! You're not scared to say that you love me and you're not afraid to show it and do all these things for me."

Lucien raised his head and looked his lover in the eye. 

"This is what I mean with  _ 'I love you.' _ It doesn't mean that I want to sleep with you or kiss you. Of course this is part of it, but that is not the heart of it. Non…" Lucien cupped Mundy's face between his palms. "I love you means that I will voluntarily and gladly get tired, irritated, frustrated and mad, all that, for you, for your happiness. If it ever comes to it, oui, oui and a thousand times oui, I will sweat my last drop and I will give my last breath for you to feel the best way possible with me. I will work my soul off to be the one you come to, when you come home." 

Mundy threw the duvet off them in a flash. 

"Are you alright?" Lucien asked. 

"I just… I got hot… What you said it uh… Thanks." 

Lucien smiled and pulled Mundy to him. 

"Do you still want to stay in bed or do you feel any better?" He asked. 

"I want to go… wherever you go." Mundy answered. 

"Then, I made some lunch, a lasagna as it happens." 

"Oh?"

"Oui, I cooked your favourite dish. I thought you might need it." 

"I love you so bloody much. Let's get outta bed and I can have a bite." 

"Non, first, take a shower."

"Do I stink?" 

"Non, but you can do with a bit of hot water hitting your skin. It will help you relax." Lucien explained. "I can also join in if you want, or you can take it on your own if you prefer." 

"Come with me, please." 

"Meow!" 

"Hey, pretty cat." Mundy took her in his arms and hugged her. "I'd have asked you to join but you don't like water." 

"Meow!" 

"Actually, it's perhaps better that you don't join… That shower might take longer than expected…" Mundy playfully bit the shell of Lucien's ear and peppered kisses on his cheek. The Frenchman moaned softly and pulled his lover out of the bed.


	97. Destroyed suit, dead Mundy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "(Hey it’s anon from spicy gone wrong) while Lucien’s gone Sniper does something incredible dumb that causes lu’s brand new expensive suit to be ruin (like like there is no fixing that suit it’s just gone like look at the stains and tears on it-) and everyone is just counting the seconds. Scouts laughing But inside is terrified-, medic and the others our planing his funeral, some debate on wether to call miss Pauling for this one, sniper is having pearl write his will and testimony."

* * *

The telephone rang in Spy's suite. Sniper ran to it and in his rush, he bumped the coffee table and a glass tumbled, spilling its content. But he was too preoccupied with the phone call to notice it. 

"Hello?" 

" _ Mon amour?"  _

_ [My love?] _

Lucien's voice was a delight to hear but when he called Mundy  _ "my love" _ , and in French at that…! Ooh…! Shivers…!

"Yeah?" 

"I'm afraid it will take longer than expected, I do apologise."

"Oh," Mundy's smile disappeared. "Ok, it's fine." 

"I am very sorry, I will get back home a bit later than expected…" Lucien apologised at the other end of the line. 

"Alright… It's fine, uh… Just be safe and uh…"

" _ Mon amour?"  _ Lucien interrupted.

_ [My love?] _

"Yeah?" 

"I miss you too, terribly so." Lucien said softly and Mundy relaxed, sighing as he longed for his lover. 

"How long do you think you'll be?" 

"Half an hour more and count another one to come back to the base."

"Alright…"

"Do you think you will survive an extra hour without me?" Lucien asked. 

"I can hear yer smirk…"

Lucien chuckled. 

"But yeah, I'll try. Love you, darl'."

"Me too, with all my heart." 

Mundy and Lucien hung up and the Aussie turned. 

"Oh bugger…" He froze and his blood turned to ice in his veins. "Bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger…!"

Mundy realised he had dropped a glass of wine on Lucien's brand new suit, the one he would use to go to the opera that weekend with him. But that wasn't the worst part. The Aussie ran to the kitchen and filled a sauce pan with water. He ran at the coffee table and splashed it on the tuxedo: the wine had flowed and the flames of the fireplace had surfed on the wine to gnaw on the precious suit. 

Mundy managed to extinguish it and took the tuxedo in his hand. As all of Lucien's suits, it was tailor-made and cost a fortune and a half. As such, it was a unique model… 

"Bugger, how am I gonna fix that…?" His eyes darted left and right. 

"Meow!" Perle exclaimed.

"Engie!" Mundy answered and he took the suit in his hand, rushing to Engie's quarters. But the Texan wasn't there. "Where is he?" 

"Meow." Perle had trotted with him out of her master's suite. 

"Ah yeah, it's almost lunch time, he must be in the kitchen." 

A few seconds later, Mundy erupted in the kitchen, the burnt tuxedo in his hand and Perle on his heels. 

"Engie?" 

"Hey pardner."

All the mercenaries were there and their eyes turned to Sniper. 

"What the fuck is that?" Scout asked. And the mercenaries gasped as their gaze followed Scout's finger pointing at the ruined tuxedo.

"Engie, you gotta help me fix this, please…" Mundy laid the suit on the table, on the plates and cutlery.

"Well, Sniper, uh…" Engie scratched his bald head. 

"Please tell me you can fix it, he's gonna kill me when he gets back here!" 

" _ You _ did that?!" Scout asked. "Oh man you're dead, you're so, so dead!" He slammed his hands on his mouth, trying not to burst out in laughter. "He's gonna kill you alright and God knows if we're gonna find your pieces!"

Sniper's eyes never left Engie, his only hope. 

"How did that happen? Did you burn it?" Engie asked. 

"I didn't do it on purpose o'course but uh… yeah, and I had to put out the fire, that's why it's drenched…"

"Man it looks so expensive, he's gonna gut ya!" Scout exclaimed as he touched the fabric. 

Sniper's sweat was visible on his brow. 

"Listen, Sniper, uh, with all my PhDs, I can't fix that. I'm good with machines, robots, cars, mechanics and electronics in general. But that…? Nah, that ain't my thing… Sorry…"

"Bloody hell…" Sniper put a hand on his face. 

"Mein freund," Medic started, "simple burial or cremation? Please accept the burial, I might then as well harvest two or three things before we put the rest of your body six feet under the ground." 

"Gosh…" Sniper collapsed on a chair, his hand still on his face in shame and panic. 

"God bless your soul, Sniper." Soldier saluted his colleague. "We will say goodbye the true American way: trumpet and shots in the air. You were good son, real good, maybe even the best." Soldier removed his helmet and held it against his chest, his head low.

"Here laddie, ye might as well need some of that." Demo put his bottle of scrumpy on the table in front of Sniper. "Actually, wait…" He took a swig off it and put it back. "There." 

"Mmph! Mmmmph!" Pyro entered the room and put his balloonicorn plushie on Sniper's lap to comfort him. 

"I… Ugh…" Sniper left the kitchen and went to hide away in his den of a van. 

He locked himself up, sitting on the floor, his back on the cupboard under the sink. He was hugging the ruined suit as if life had been once there and left. Despite his colleagues trying to humour him, Mundy knew how strict his lover was on his suits. Hell, he remembered the first time he had tapped on his shoulder, it had been all friendly, at the end of a match, to congratulate Spy. But the Frenchman had spun on his heels and locked Mundy's arm behind his back with one hand while with the other, Mundy felt a blade on his throat. 

"Meow…" Perle brushed herself on him, purring to try and bring a bit of peace to him. But Mundy was still anxious. If Lucien could put a blade to his throat for touching his suit, what would he do if he had burnt and stained one? 

"Meow…?" The fluffy white cat jumped on Mundy's lap and stood on her back legs to brush her head on his mouth. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her as if it would be the last time. She purred. 

Meanwhile, Lucien had parked his car and went to his room. 

" _ Je suis de retour, mon amour." _

_ [Honey, I'm home.] _

Lucien got welcomed by silence. He raised an eyebrow and called. 

"Mundy?" 

No answer. The Frenchman started looking around and it only took him a minute to notice the stain of diluted wine on the carpet next to the fireplace. 

"Mundy?" He frowned and called again, but no answer. "Perle?" 

No one came trotting at him. He could feel it in his bones, something was wrong. He left his suite and headed for the living-room. 

"Gentlemen, have you seen Sniper by any chance?" 

The mercenaries froze. 

"Uh… No…" Scout answered and Spy smelled the bad lie. 

"Scout, clearly you have. Where is he?" 

Scout blushed beyond his ears and looked at Soldier and Demo for some help.

"God Bless his soul…." The American patriot removed his helmet again. "He was a good private. Strange accent for an American, but a very good comrade." 

"What are you talking about?" Spy frowned. 

"Look, lad, uh, w-we don't know where Sniper is…" 

"Why do you all look like that? Has something happened to him while I was away?" Spy asked, trying to hide how worried he was. 

Seeing his colleagues lower their heads and not answer drove him mad. 

"Answer me!" He shouted. "Where is he?!" 

"We don't know, ok?!" Scout answered back. 

" _ Imbéciles!"  _ He shouted as he slammed as he slammed the door shut and ran out to the van.

_ [Imbeciles!] _

He banged the door. 

"Mundy?! Mundy, are you here?!"

Mundy felt the heat of the shame make him melt in a pool of sweat and he held Perle closer to him still. He felt as if those were the last minutes of his life. Lucien banged on the door repeatedly again. Mundy's legs were jelly as he translated the impatience of the hard bangs of his lover as his rage… 

"Meow!" 

Lucien's pupils retracted to a dot. 

"Perle?!  _ Ma chérie, tu es là?! Papa Mundy est avec toi?!" _

_ [My sweetheart, are you in there? Is Papa Mundy with you?] _

"Meow!" She repeated and Mundy felt betrayed by the fluffy white cat. She slipped off his arms and went to scratch the door with her claws, meowing repeatedly. 

On the other side of it, Lucien was dying of concern for his lover and why he wouldn't open his door to him. Was he that ill? Was what Soldier said to be taken literally? Had something terrible happened to Mundy while he was away? 

Lucien was not going to let any door stand between him and his lover. His professionalism came back to him in a flash of consciousness. He went to his cigarette case. He flipped it open and retrieved the pins concealed there to pick the lock. He eventually burst into the van, drowning the narrow dark space with the sunlight behind him.

"Mundy!" 

Lucien saw him sat on the floor, his head low and his arms wrapped around his legs. He threw himself at him, on his knees, paying little to not attention that his trousers might be ruined. 

_ "Mon amour!  _ Is everything alright, look at me? Please!"

Lucien threw away his gloves and balaclava to better hold Mundy in his arms. 

"Mon Dieu, what is wrong with you? Are you hurt? Did something happen? Say something! Why are you alone with Perle here in the dark?!" 

"You're gonna kill me." A muffled voice answered. 

"Non! What the hell are you talking about?! I would never do such a thing! Tell me,  _ mon amour,  _ please, whatever it is, tell me…!" Lucien pleaded and Mundy raised his head. He was pale, more pale than Lucien, which was quite a feat as Mundy's natural skin tone was caramel because of the sun. 

"Promise me you won't be mad." Mundy looked up at Lucien who was crouching on the floor, his hands each on Mundy's cheeks. 

"Of course not, whatever it is, I won't get mad…" He answered, imagining the worst. "Y-you are seeing someone else? You want to leave me?" Lucien enquired, his voice slightly breaking. 

Mundy shook his head, still between Lucien's hands. 

"What is it then?" 

He pointed at the ruined suit on the floor next to him. 

"My suit for the opera…? What about it…?" 

And Mundy buried his head between his chest and his knees again. Lucien took the tuxedo in his hand and quickly saw the burn and stain. He smelled it and he connected it with the stain of wine he had seen in the living-room. 

"You spilled wine on my suit? But what is that? Why is it burnt? Did you get burnt? What happened?!" 

"P-promise me." Mundy implored. "Promise me you won't get mad." 

"I promise! I promise that and everything that you need and want now please, for the love of all that is holy, tell me!"

"I… When you called me, I knocked on the glass of wine and it spilled between the fireplace and the suit that was on the coffee table. I was talking to you and didn't realise things had caught on fire until I hung up… But it was too late… I-I'm sorry, love, I'll repay it to you, or-or I can repay it however you want, I swear I didn't do it on purpose… I-I'm so sorry…!"

"Oh mon Dieu…!" Lucien sighed in relief. "Oh you had me seriously worried, you and the rest of the team! Soldier seemed to say you were dying!"

"I was and I am! Cause you're gonna kill me for it!"

"Non! What the hell are you talking about! Mundy?" 

Mundy raised his eyes and Lucien cupped his face again. 

"Is that why you thought I was going to kill you?" 

Mundy nodded. 

" _ Mon amour,  _ I love you more than any piece of fabric! I don't care about it! Mon Dieu I was so scared something terrible had happened to you…!" Lucien held Mundy so hard against him, he managed to pull him slightly off the ground. 

"Y-you're not mad at me?" 

"I'm furious!" He answered. "Never do that to me again! Never let me believe something bad had happened to you! You're… You're everything I have left with Perle…!" 

"No, you're not mad at me for destroying your suit?"

"Not half as much as I am for you worrying me that much!" Lucien slithered his fingers through his hair. "I will get the suit made again, that is no issue."

"I'm so sorry." 

"Forget it. The suit is immaterial and irrelevant." 

They stayed a few more minutes on the floor in the van, just enough for Mundy's skin to get their caramel tint back. 

" _ Je t'aime, mon coeur.  _ The suit can get burnt as long as you are fine."

[I love you, my sweetheart.]

"Love ya too, darl'." 

They managed to stand up and share the hug they both needed. 


	98. Lucien's lingerie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I have a S P I C E Y request: Spy showing off his lingerie to sniper"

* * *

"Gosh, you've been teasin' me all day…" 

Mundy slammed the door shut with his foot as he pushed Lucien in the suite with his lips. He removed his sleeveless jacket and slammed in on the floor as he pushed and pushed until Lucien's back bumped on the bedroom door. 

"Impatient?" Lucien teased. 

"Your fault, you're bloody gorgeous… And your touchin' me under the dinner table really worked me up…" Sniper's fingers touched, fumbled, grabbed and pulled while Spy was just perfectly sandwiched between the door and his lover's body, offering his own. 

"It was only your arm! And your thigh, a bit." He admitted. "Nothing serious."

"Turned me on anyway…" Mundy growled and pulled the balaclava a bit up to bit Lucien's neck. 

"Wait-!" Spy asked.

"What?"

"You stay here and don't enter. I need to get ready." 

"Get ready?" 

"Oui," Spy pushed his lips on Sniper before whispering, "You will see, it will be worth it…" 

"Right." Mundy yielded and felt the blood rush to his head when Lucien winked at him, before closing the door. 

It took a few minutes and Lucien opened the door again. 

"Y-you didn't change anythin'." Mundy said, observing his lover closely. "I mean you removed the mask and gloves…"

"I did more than that." Lucien replied as he removed his tie and threw it around Mundy's neck before catching it and pulling on it. The Aussie got pulled forward faster than he thought he could and his lips crashed on Lucien's. 

"Doesn't matter," He growled between two deep kisses, "I'll get your ready my own way…" 

Lucien giggled from the bottom of his throat and his mischievous grin made Mundy hungrier. He wrapped his arms around Lucien and quickly lifted him off the ground. 

" _Mon Dieu!"_

_[My God!]_

He walked to the bed and gently laid him down before putting a knee between his legs and diving to his lips. 

Then the stripping started. Mundy removed his own clothes first and when he was as bare as he could be, he did the same on Lucien, listening to his ahs and ohs, seeing the goosebumps on his naked skin as it met the cool air in the room. First the jacket, then the vest, the shirt went away quite fast and Lucien thought he heard some buttons actually pop off of it. 

It didn't matter because now the trousers were off and Lucien was left only wearing his socks, garters, some boxer shorts and an undershirt. 

"Bugger, how many layers d'you have!" 

"As much as I need to make you eager…" 

Mundy pulled on Lucien's undershirt to lay him bear and then went to his boxer shorts and commented.

"Well, you're not failin' at - what's _that?"_ He interrupted his own self. 

Lucien was wearing a piece of underwear that Mundy had never seen. It surely cost a fortune too, it was made of intricate satin red and black laces and the fabric was almost see-through. It wrapped around his chest and flowed down to connect with what Mundy had hoped to see. That nylon or whatever it was was doing an awfully good job at half hiding Lucien's most intimate parts. It was just enough to excite Mundy's curiosity. 

" _That_ ," Lucien answered. "is what I put on." 

"For me?" Mundy had pulled him and both were sitting up opposite each other. 

"Oui, for you. I don't know if you would appreciate it, but why not try?" 

Mundy took a good look at the whole attire from Lucien's chest to his legs. 

"Gosh… The garters were something already but _that_ , that's somethin' else…"

"Like what you see?" 

"Can I touch?" Mundy asked. 

"Would you ask if I was naked?" Lucien answered with a smirk and Mundy's hand hovered to the laces, touching the smooth satin under his rough, calloused fingers. And the torso that was almost see through, ooh, strange kind of fabric, Mundy had never touched it before. He let more of his fingers discover it all.

Lucien slowly laid back down and offered his body like a priceless delicacy on a silver plate that Mundy savoured with his eyes and his hands. 

"Where did you find that…? I didn't know they made stuff like that for blokes, I thought it was only for sheilas in the magazines and stuff." 

Lucien smiled. 

"I have my ways. But non, they do make some for men. They are a bit more tricky to find for the layman…"

"But you're not the layman."

"Am I not?" Lucien teased. 

"Nah, y-you're something else…" Mundy bent down and kissed Lucien's skin through the thin layer of fabric and laces. It enthralled the Frenchman, having Mundy's mouth so close yet not totally connecting with him. He raised his hips to grind them against Mundy's. 

"Oh, God…" The friction was more than welcome and Mundy let more of his body weigh on Lucien while kissing him. 

"I want you, please, don't make me wait..." Lucien whispered and Mundy stopped on the spot to grab some petroleum jelly from the night table.

"Right, turn on your stomach."

" _Make me."_ Lucien whispered and Mundy grabbed him from his hips fast, almost violently and with a devious smile, he flipped him on the bed. 

"Bugger!" 

Lucien propped himself on his forearms and turned his head back to see Mundy's surprise painted on his face, and his arousal painted everywhere else.

"I presume that means you appreciate this little _effort_ of mine?" 

Mundy's eyes were riveted on Lucien's backside. If from the front it seemed like a normal (if very intricate) pair of underwear, there wasn't even a layer of anything behind… Lucien's rear was completely naked, except for a few laces to hold everything in place. 

"Oh, Gosh…" 

Lucien caught with his eye Mundy's masculinity twitching under the _aroused curiosity_ , or _curious arousal,_ maybe both. The Frenchman lifted his hips off the bed.

"As much as I enjoy seeing you in this state, my patience has limits." He quipped. 

"Oh shut up already, I don't know what I'm gonna do to ya…" 

And with that, Mundy directly dived and took two handfuls of Lucien's beautiful backside before biting, kissing and savouring the soft flesh under the song of the Frenchman's pleasure. 

"Gosh you make me want you so much…" and Mundy bit him again which made Lucien grasp the bedsheets hard in his hands. "And you smell so good…" 

Mundy let his tongue tease his already impatient lover and Lucien's legs went to jelly. He barely managed to open them a bit wider for Mundy to lap at his own leisure, letting his tongue explore and savour. And he heard Lucien's moans fly higher in pitch. 

"Please, Mundy…! I can hardly wait more!"

"Hardly, eh?" Mundy chuckled before breaching Lucien's intimacy with a finger. 

"Awh!" Lucien welcomed it with a long moan mingled with an exhale. Mundy slipped another finger and worked the Frenchman open when he interrupted him. 

"Enough, please, I-I…"

Mundy stopped. Something in Lucien's voice was wrong. 

"What is it darl'?" 

Lucien flipped to lay on his back and Mundy realised that the underwear was beyond taut. 

"Bugger, does it hurt?" 

"A bit, oui, please remove it…" 

Mundy followed the laces trying to understand where they led but his mind kept on showing him the image of Lucien's private parts almost painfully caged in the thin fabric, his lust dripping through it. 

"Screw this." Mundy dived and took some of the laces between his teeth and pulled. They tore apart and Lucien's masculinity sprang free with a yelp from the poor man. "I'm sorry love, I didn't know it was that tight on ya." Mundy quickly kissed Lucien's lips. 

"Neither did I actually… Ah…" 

"Let me help." Mundy slithered down and slowly lapped at Lucien, where the piece of clothing was constricting him. 

"Ah! Ooh! Sensitive, go slowly, please!"

Mundy did as he was told and slowly eased Lucien's pain away. He licked very slowly from the base to the tip, paying attention to follow the vein on the side and spoil his lover where he knew he liked it most. Lucien slid his slim fingers in Mundy's hair and guided him to push him a bit more. That was it, the pain was gone. So the Aussie stopped holding back and let his hunger guide him first. 

The change of pace was delightful, but the change in melody too! Mundy was trying to ignore his own body screaming at him and it was proving rather difficult. 

"M-Mundy, go ahead, please…"

The Aussie moved away and Lucien flipped back on his stomach. A minute later, Mundy was laying completely flat on Lucien's back, his intimacy safely in Lucien's body. 

"Bugger you feel so good…" 

He didn't thrust, he didn't pump, he simply rolled his hips, slow and painfully loving, his arms wrapped between Lucien's torso, feeling the special underwear between his fingers. 

"You've been so… good to me…" Mundy's hips rolled again. "Oh, Gosh… And that thing you put on, you looked like a candy bar… I wanted to rip it off of you and eat you raw…" 

Lucien's moans jumped in pitch when he felt Mundy reach as far as he could. His words were devilishly good too. 

"Well, you… You did rip it off…" 

"Yeah…" Mundy's hips slowly pushed the air out of Lucien's lungs. "And I saw you… You bit your lip when I did it… You liked it… Did you take it too narrow on purpose…?"

Lucien smiled. 

"N-non, it was a coincidence, a very welcome one in the end - awh…" 

Mundy playfully bit his lover's ear and growled. 

"You're gorgeous…" He whispered as he picked the pace and Lucien's moans and pants accelerated accordingly. "You're gorgeous when you tease me…" 

Lucien bit the pillow below him. 

"And you drive me mad with just a touch of your fingers… Durin' dinner… Your touch… On my thigh… I wanted to push you against the nearest wall and bugger you out of existence…"

Lucien rolled his eyes and let Mundy do to his body what he wanted, he was entirely jelly.

"I wanted you so bloody much… It was so hard for me to hide it…" 

"M-Mundy… Please…" 

"Mmmh…" Mundy's hand slithered around the Frenchman's body to hold his masculinity. He stroked it as hard and fast as his own hips were working. 

"I-I'm close, M-Mundy, I will, I'm about to - aah!" 

Mundy felt it between his fingers and slowed his thrusts, rolling his hips seductively to hit that infuriating spot. Lucien clawed the bedsheets like a mad panther, taking in the waves of pleasure and as he did, he pulled Mundy to his own climax with him and both their bodies contracted in each other's erratically, their breath breaking from any kind of sync, panting hard for the air that had got scarce the room. 

"Gosh… Oh my… Lu'..."

Lucien was catching his breath, his eyes closed and his mind in limbo. It was when Mundy nibbled at his shoulder and neck that Lucien zoned back to reality as if he had fallen asleep.

"I love you…" Mundy withdrew from his lover delicately and turned him on his back. He removed all the remaining bits of Lucien's lingerie slowly, freeing his limp body from those absurd constraints. "There, much better now." 

Mundy threw the blanket over them and held Lucin close in a dear embrace. 

"I love you…" He repeated in whispers, kissing him everywhere on his face until he reached his lips. Lucien was hardly kissing back, he was exhausted.

Until Mundy added _the French to the kiss_ , that is.

  
  
  



	99. Monsieur and Madame Spy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Lady!spy(Lucinda??) and male!spy (Lucien) going at it about their respective partners lady’s all like “my beautiful wife is much more better at being a sniper then your stupid boy dog husband!” And Lucien’s like “how dare you that dog is best sniper in all the land is much more mature then precious wife!” And both snipers are just sitting there like “we leave you two for 5 minutes to go hunting-“

* * *

"Your taste in women is as awful as your taste in cigarettes." 

"Still better than your taste in men." 

The male RED Spy arched an eyebrow to his female BLU counterpart. They were enjoying a coffee in a café, at the entrance of a large forest that was also a park. 

"Your Sniper is really your partner?" He asked.

"I could ask the same." She answered.

"Did no other teammate find grace to your eyes?" 

"No other man entirely, actually." She answered. 

They both took a sip. 

"You haven't tried mine." He quipped with a smirk.

"Is this an invitation? You may try mine meanwhile."

"Just you try." He threatened and she chuckled. "Lay a finger on him and I will make you eat it." 

"You lay a finger on her and I will make you eat it,  _ from the wrong end." _

They both chuckled. 

"Is your contract finished then?" He asked. 

"Well, the usual BLU Spy and Sniper are back from their injuries and they passed their medical checks successfully… We received confirmation from the Administrator too and we are out." 

"Having to deal with females was refreshing." The RED one said. "Although I do wonder how you managed to survive amongst seven men who haven't seen a woman in years now." He raised the cup to his lips.

"We made out in front of them." 

He nearly spat his coffee out and coughed. 

"I beg your pardon?!" 

"You heard me correctly. We made out openly in front of them and showed them how uninterested we were in them. We then proceeded to never hide our relationship and live it openly in front of them. They had to accept it."

"Even your Scout?" He asked. 

"The boy is obnoxious, pretentious and loud. But he is kind hearted deep down. He just needs to grow up."

The RED Spy lowered his head to hide a smile. 

"Kind hearted he is indeed."

She looked at him briefly and frowned. 

"Do you know him?" 

"Non, not the way I should. But I know that much about him." 

Their eyes met and she saw something in his. Something that only some come to know, when they get older, if they are lucky enough. 

"Ah, I see." She said with a smile. 

"You too?" He asked. 

"Yes." She answered. "Only mine knows." 

"Ah…" He nodded and took a sip. 

Silence fell for a while. 

"Still, your taste for men is out of my mind. He is weathered, scruffy, dirty…"

"An animal, oui." He answered. "And if we are being very truthful, it has its advantages, in some contexts." He smirked. 

"Dirty."

"Some like it that way." He shrugged with a malicious smile and they shared a laugh. "But yours… How on Earth can she be a sharpshooter? Lady spies I have heard of, but ladies who are good with a long rifle…"

"That's what someone  _ without _ a long rifle would say…" 

He caught the innuendo straight away.

"Please… How old are we…?" 

"Still, she is one of a kind indeed and that's part of the reason I let myself fall for her." 

"Mh!" He gulped down the last bit of his coffee. "That is a very accurate way to phrase it,  _ 'let myself fall for him.'  _ " 

"It is true that we spies don't have the luxury of choice."

"We normally give away our freedom so that most can enjoy it." He added. 

"But as mercenaries…" She started.

"Freedom is back." He concluded.

"Freedom to live,..."

"And freedom to love. Oh, speaking of…" 

Both Snipers emerged, the RED male one finishing to laugh. 

"Here you are, eh? Right where we left you." He said. 

"You didn't move by an inch?" The BLU lady Sniper asked. 

"No, we didn't." 

"I mean I understand for  _ him _ ," the lady Sniper started. "Even with your mask on, you look and sound quite old…" 

"Oi, there, sheila…" Her male counterpart answered. "I'm not saying anything on your lady's funny accent." 

"Funny accent?! She's British! Your man's got the funny voice, what is he? Italian or something?" 

"French, he's French, y'know, the refined ones with the thin moustaches?"

"Yeah, the stinky ones." 

"Says the sheila who throws her own piss jars at us." 

"As if you didn't do that." 

"Yeah but at least I can piss straight in them." 

Both Spy's facepalmed. 

"I think we got the point, darling."

" _ Mon amour…"  _

_ [My love…] _

They both rose from their seats. The male Sniper wrapped an arm around his lover's waist and the female one copied him symmetrically. 

"So," The French Spy looked at the couple of women. "This is goodbye, I presume." He extended his hand out and they shook it. 

"It was good knowin' you, gals." Sniper added, shaking their hands too. 

"Good luck to you." The female Spy said. "And good luck to your family." She winked at her male counterpart. 

"Same to you." 

"Hey, lanky arse." The female Sniper addressed her counterpart. "Take care of your old sweetheart."

"Don't worry, I got him." He kissed Spy's temple. 

"And his backside is everything but lanky, I can tell you that." Spy answered before they shared a laugh. 

The females turned their backs and headed off, leaving the males alone. 

"Funny bunch, those sheilas.” Mundy looked down at his lover.

“Indeed. But I cannot help thinking we share more common points than differences.” Lucien answered.

“Yeah, you’re right… Anyway, wanna eat something?”

“Non.” Lucien answered.

“You sure? I’m quite hungry. That walk in the forest worked up my appetite.”

Lucien turned to his lover. 

“I guess I would cook something up for you…”

“Ooh,” Lucien’s tone of voice meant that that dinner wasn’t going to be enjoyed in the kitchen. “Well then, go ahead, I’m following.”

Lucien walked back to the van, Mundy eagerly on his heels. When the Frenchman climbed up, he felt a sharp smack on his backside and bit his lip. 

“Someone is impatient!”

“Just checking…” Mundy closed the door after him and towered his lover, wrapping his hands to knead his backside. “It’s tender, I'd say rare or medium rare, just how I like it.” 

Lucien raised devious eyes to his lover. 

“ _ Bon appétit.” _


	100. The honeymoon - Vana's edition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Spy and Sniper want to go on a trip to France, because of the honeymoon. As the first destination, they decide to come to Bordeaux. After the first exhausted day of visiting this beautiful town, in the evening, they stop at some Pier to see the magnificent panorama of the city. Therefore, Spy and Sniper think this is the best moment of their lifes, a moment, where they spend some time together hugging and teasing each other. :3"

* * *

"Ready for your first day in  _ my  _ country?" 

"Yeah, show me your home, darl', let's go!"

"Wait, before we go. You know why I took you here?" Lucien asked. 

"Yeah." Mundy smiled, his cheeks turning pink. "For… I mean because…" He looked at the ring on his hand. "Our honeymoon." 

"Then I need to say it before we proceed."

"Say what?" Mundy asked. 

"I love you." Lucien looked up with those ice-drop like eyes at his husband. 

"So do I, darl'..." 

Their lips met, they needed it like a period to their sentence. Lucien and Mundy exited their hotel and on they went under the bright sun of… Bordeaux!

"Some would argue she is the capital of the South West of France." 

"Are you part of those 'some'?"

"Oui, I am. Bordeaux is what Paris would die to be, but never will." 

They strolled along the streets.

"Paris and Bordeaux have very similar architecture styles. The difference is the mentality of the people, the rhythm of life and look above your head…"

"The sky?" 

"Oui. Blue sky here, while Paris has pollution, rude people and almost more tourists than rats!"

"Sounds like you don't really like yer capital city, eh?" Mundy said with a smile. 

"It is cultural. Paris thinks they have the elite and the rest of us are peasants. We  _ know _ that they are played like fiddles, working like sheep, while we get the good weather and the smile on our faces." 

"I see…" 

The visit lasted the entire day. Churches, places, squares, parks and of course, vineyards! They did it all. Come the evening, they finished their dinner in a restaurant by the quays of the river,  _ La Garonne _ , and decided to stroll along the riverbanks. 

The buildings along La Garonne were brightly lit with their yellow lights, slicing through the blue of the night. The street lamps were made of intricate wrought iron laces and some shed multicolored lights. 

They dragged their feet lazily on the quays, their gaits waving left and right, exchanging their usual banter, the one that made them more than friends. 

"Gosh that was one hell of a long day…" Mundy said. 

"Are you tired?" 

"A bit yeah."

"Let us sit down somewhere. Is this bench over there alright?" Lucien asked. 

"Sure." 

They stopped and took a seat. In front of them, the river reflected the city lights, deforming them slightly under the current of the stream like an oil painting. It was fairly calm now and the quays had their success in the evening. Passer-bys of all ages, families and couples were enjoying the same warm evening than Lucien and Mundy.

"That's quite a lot of bridges you have over the river." Mundy noticed. 

"Indeed and the traffic is always dense on them. The right banks used to be full of factories while the left ones were where the selling of the products would happen. But nowadays it has all changed. The factories became ultra modern apartments and the buildings you see behind us, those made of those beige stones, part of them are a museum and the rest is fancy offices." 

"Ah, I see…" 

Silence fell and they could now hear someone playing the guitar somewhere behind them. The quays had been converted to a space for all. There were playgrounds, gardens, benches, spaces for picnics…

"Lu'?"

"Oui?"

"D'you think… things happen for a reason?"

"To some extent, oui, I do. Why?" 

Mundy took a deep breath. The air smelled of the river passing in front of them mixed with the flowers that laid along the quays. 

"I don't know, it's just… I think that's it."

Lucien raised an eyebrow. 

"That's it, what?" 

"That's it, I'm happy." Mundy answered. "I spent my adult life alone, hunting because that's the only thing I know, and look at me now…? I'm here in France with you and I'm… I'm bloody married now!"

Lucien chuckled. 

"Indeed you are, and so am I. But I understand your point. Oui, it seems that the life of running and killing is over, or for you, driving and killing. What I find comical is that it all took me back where it all started, in Bordeaux."

Lucien's eyes went on the river, the lapping sounds of the current, on the surface. 

"I love you, Lu'."

"So do I, with all my heart." 

"You know, my mind's been a bit stuck on the vows we took." Mundy said.

"Ah, the wedding vows? Strong words, hm?"

"Yeah… Strong words. I thought it was just a movies' thing, y'know, all made up and exaggerated and all… But no. When I said I'd stay with you and only you till the end, I meant it. I meant it in a very serious way, it wasn't jokes or made up."

Lucien smiled and leaned his head on Mundy's shoulder. 

"I meant my words too, Mundy. For better and for worse, in health and in sickness." The Frenchman repeated. "Because I know all too well that  _ 'home' _ isn't a place. It isn't a flat, nor is it a house. Home is when I'm with you, regardless of what is around us. Today we are in Bordeaux watching La Garonne flow, but who knows where we will be tomorrow…?" 

"Still in Bordeaux cause the return ticket is for next week?" Mundy answered with a chuckle. 

"I guess, oui, but you understood what I meant."

"Yeah, I do." Mundy took Lucien's hand and sandwiched it in both of his. "Gosh I can't think about anything else but you. It's like I've met you and I know I'm in love with you but we didn't meet properly yet and you don't know what I feel for you. You know, those days before you tell someone you love'em, when you're just obsessed, and it's all only in your head, cookin' and boilin' on its own…!"

Lucien smiled. 

"Oh I know what you feel and I feel it too. Although in my case, this is quite a first."

"First marriage?" Mundy teased. "You plan on havin' others?" 

"Non…!" Lucien laughed on Mundy's shoulder. "That is not what I meant. It is the first time that I sit in front of the river and show her the face of a happy man. I doubt she even recognises me with the grey hair and the tired eyes with lines at the corner." 

"I'm sure she does." Mundy answered. "Hard to forget them."

"Forget what?" Lucien asked. 

"Your eyes." 

The Frenchman felt it in its core, the warmth. He slid his fingers between Mundy's and he felt the ring there. It brought some pink to his cheeks. 

"Merci."

[Thank you.]

"Thank you too. You're a good guide, y'know." 

"You sound surprised." Lucien said. 

"Yeah, nah, I don't know. The more I know you, the more I find things that I like in you."

"Have you found something that you didn't like so far?" Lucien asked. 

"Your music taste." Mundy answered. 

"What?"

"You have a problem with your music, I swear you must be the only one likin' French stuff from the fifties!" 

"Non I am not! It used to be hugely popular and it still is!" 

"Popular? Stuff from the fifties? In French? Nah… Only an old frog like you could like that."

"Ah…" Lucien sighed. "The younger generation has no taste whatsoever." 

"Oi, I like some good stuff!"

"American pop songs that are broadcast on loop on the radio and dull your senses? The same that have no lyrics, or barely any meaning, no poetry? This is no taste, Mundy, I am sorry." 

Mundy chuckled and tilted his head to lean it on Lucien's.

"Funny old man." 

"Acceptable young one." Lucien teased. 

"Acceptable? Really?"

"Look here." Lucien said and Mundy looked down at him. "Oui, acceptable and  _ only by me." _

In the dark of the night, their lips met between their smiling lips and their closed eyes. When they parted, they added to the lapping sounds of the river. 

"You will be the end of me." Lucien said. 

"Can I be everythin' before that too? I feel like we're skipping quite a lot of things before we got to that point."

"Of course you can, and you are. I love you." 

Mundy softened and tightened his grasp on Lucien's hands.

"Love you too, darl'. You're everything." 


	101. Sniper's hair ruffling

The day had been long and the battles had tired his nerves. Sniper exited the shower and got dressed up quickly. The tall man exited the common bathroom as he finished dressing up and put a hat on his head. He crossed the building and exited to get to his van. 

He took the keys out, unlocked his van's backdoor and entered. He removed his hat and was about to put it on the slim kitchen top when a white piece of paper caught his eye. 

"What the…?" 

He knew he hadn't left it there. Sniper took the card in his hand and put it to his nose.

_ Cigarettes and that cologne... _

He flipped the card. It read:

_ "Don't make me wait too long. _

_ Signed: L."  _

The handwriting was impossible to get mistaken. But the signature?

_ Well, there's only one way to find out. _

Sniper took his hat again, sliding the note in his pocket and exited his van again. In a minute or so, the Australian found himself in front of the door with the knife symbol. He looked left and right, making sure no one was looking, and shyly knocked on the door. 

"Come in, it's open." 

The sharpshooter pushed the door.

"Bonjour, Sniper."

"Hey there… Wanted to see me?" 

"When do I not? But please, make yourself comfortable and do join me on the sofa. I have made some coffee and there are some biscuits." 

Sniper removed his sleeveless jacket before joining the Frenchman and sitting next to him.

"Ah, there you are, please, help yourself."

"Y-you - Where did you get my mug from?!" 

Sniper's eyes were riveted on the coffee table between the sofa and the fireplace. There was a tray with two mugs on it. One was black and the other white, with the inscription "#1 Sniper" on it, in red letters.

"From the kitchen obviously, where you leave it."

"Ah." 

"Go ahead." 

He took the mug and sipped.

"Oh, that's some good coffee there…!" 

"Much better than the, uh,  _ jus de chaussettes _ that you accustom yourself to." 

"My what?" 

"It is a saying in French. We tend to call bad coffee  _ 'socks juice'. _ "

"That's gross!" 

"Coming from the man who uses jars of his…" Spy's eyebrows jumped. " _ Bodily fluids….?" _

"Fair enough, you got a point… What are those biscuits?" 

"They're called  _ langue de chat."  _

"Somethin' about a cat?" 

"Cat's tongue, oui." The Frenchman smiled. "Because of their shape."

"Mh, they're very good. You frogs might be good with biscuits but you're shite when it comes to animals. That's really not what a cat's tongue looks like." 

"Pardon our incompetence,  _ Monsieur Kangourou." _

"Did you just call me Mister Kangaroo?!" 

"Oui, I did." 

Sniper put his mug back on the coffee table and his eyes shot to his friend. The devil in the suit was smirking. 

"Pff… You're insufferable." 

"Thank you." Spy took it as a compliment. "But I did not invite you here for just a cup of coffee, although of course it is a delight."

"Why then?" 

"Your shoulders are stiff, your hair is still a bit damp although you didn't take your shower in that ridiculous van that you call your dwelling."

"How d'you know?"

"Because I was waiting for you inside and you did not come after dinner. And judging by the still faintly wet locks of hair, you have taken a long hot shower in the base. That only means one thing."

"What's that?" 

"You are tired beyond normal. You needed this shower like a warm embrace, to help you relax." 

"W-wait, how on Earth…? Ugh, bloody Spook…"

The Frenchman smiled at him and put a leg on the other.

"Since you're so clever, I got a riddle for ya."

"Pray ask." 

"What's the  _ 'L' _ on your signature?"

"You should be able to answer that. What do you think it is?" 

"Can't be your name, can it?" 

Spy slowly blinked and gave one of those secretive smiles, one of those that made Sniper's eyes shine.

"It is indeed my initial."

"Oh…" 

The Australian was taken aback. He felt as if the Frenchman had stripped naked in front of him. It would have seemed nonsensical to anyone else. Not only was Spy fully clothed but most of his face was hidden behind his usual balaclava.

"Why would you…?" Sniper started but didn't exactly know what to ask. 

"Ah, I see this is working." 

Spy put his hands on his friend’s shoulders and pulled him to lay on the sofa, his head on the Frenchman's lap. The Australian saw the world dive upside down as the revelation of his most secret, and dare he say, dearest friend still rang loudly in his ear. 

_ The first letter of his name. _

Spy took advantage of his friend's confusion. He removed Sniper's hat that he carefully placed on the coffee table. 

"Why would you tell me the first letter of your name?" 

Sniper asked, looking up at his colleague, not realising that he was using his friend's lap as a pillow. He watched as Spy removed his gloves slowly and threw them on the nearby armchair. 

"To distract you." 

"From what?" 

Spy did not answer.

"Ooh… Spy..." the Australian purred, almost whispering.

Spy smiled. He slid his fingers through his friend's brown locks and stroked gently. The slightly damp silky hair flowed between his long and slim fingers. Seeing Sniper melting in his hands amused him. The sharpshooter liked his hair to be ruffled. It was done in such a soft way, it almost felt like a massage. He closed his eyes.

"For me to get a chance to do this." Spy half-whispered.

"But why?" 

"Because seeing your defeated eyes after today's session, well, it pinched my heart and I made that decision in myself. I would… Hm." 

Spy calculated very fast in his head. Should he be blunt? Or maybe he should play it safe. After all, the shy man was in his lap which was already a miracle. He did not want to risk ruining it all.

"You would what?" 

"Ask you to guess the rest of my name." 

"Nah." 

Spy's eyebrows jumped. He looked down. Sniper opened his eyes that he locked on his friend's. 

"You're the best spy I know, Spook. But I've never seen you hesitate when you talk, _ and blush. _ " 

"Ah." Spy paused. 

"So what did you think when you saw me after today's battle?"

"Sniper-"

"C'mon. Tell me." 

Spy sighed. His fingers slid along Sniper's head delicately. Under the dancing flames of the fireplace, his hair shimmered in light brown, almost copper-coloured reflections. Spy's pupils widened. He found the colour very pleasing to see.

"I wanted to spend some time with you,  _ alone,  _ because I might like you more than I let on." 

Sniper crossed one leg on the other at the end of the sofa. His feet were dangling off of it. The man was almost comically tall… He smiled.

"Thanks, Spook, me too." 

The Australian removed his glasses and put them on the coffee table. It struck Spy. It was the first time that his friend did that in front of him. 

Maybe it was a give for a take? The first letter of Spy's name for Sniper's naked face?

Both knew it was much more than that. Trust, and something else than neither of them wanted to think about. Non. Not now, for now was the time to enjoy each other's touch.


	102. The tie - (slight spice!)

Curiosity had brought him there, after he saw the note in his locker of course. 

That day after the battle session, Sniper was tidying up his locker briefly and that's where he found a small piece of paper. He was about to throw it away but his curiosity won over. He opened it and read. 

_ 9.00pm, Grand Hotel. Room 451. _

That was all. But the handwriting gave it away. Cursive letters written with an atrociously expensive fountain pen. There was no doubt as to who had written it. 

Sniper had asked the reception about the room booked in his name. He was given a key and soon after, he stood in front of a white door with the number written in gold. He slid the key and opened. 

The Australian peeked in and saw that it was all lit up. He entered and closed the door behind him. 

"Right on time." 

He smiled when he heard the French accent. 

"Well, I didn't want to make ya wait." He answered, removing his hat and boots. 

Sniper entered the bedroom. There were candles on the night tables and an all too familiar silhouette on the bed, smoking a cigarette that he crushed in the ashtray.

"Bonsoir, Sniper." [Good evening, Sniper.] 

The Australian took a second to appreciate the view. His lover had removed his jacket, his shoes and even his vest. He was still in his shirt, tie and trousers. Sniper removed his glasses, put them on the night table and climbed on the bed, aiming straight to his lover's lips. 

They met with a smile. His lips were burnt by the sun, and the other's by his cigarettes. Their kisses were usually like that, without introduction or speech. They yielded to the temptation wordlessly and it made it feel stronger. 

Without losing any time, Spy unbuttoned his lover's shirt. Sniper reciprocated before his hands slid down on his chest to meet with the Frenchman's trousers. He undid the button there and unzipped them. 

"Impatient?" Spy purred. 

"As much as you are." Sniper growled.

The shirts flew away and the trousers followed. Their eyes met in the dim glowing lights of the candles and their lips crashed again. Sniper pushed Spy to lay completely on the bed and sat on his pelvis. His lips then moved from his lover's mouth to his neck. Sniper bit lightly, letting his teeth explore the vulnerable skin as much as his tongue did. The Frenchman frowned and moaned with an open mouth, facing the other way to offer more of his neck to his lover. 

That was Sniper's way of showing he loved him. He would make love very passionately, almost in an animalistic way. During the day, they would both keep it to their job, but come the night… 

Sniper's fingers went to his lover's head, he was still wearing the mask. He didn't dare ask him to remove it but he wanted to grasp his hair firmly… He backed off of his lover for a moment and saw the tie on the bed. 

"Put it around yer neck."

Spy's curiosity made him obey and he tied it neatly. As soon as he finished, Sniper wrapped the dangling ends around his knuckles and pulled it strongly and he dived it for the kiss. He heard the Frenchman groan loudly and didn't see him roll his eyes up. The slight constriction of his throat was something that Spy didn't anticipate would have such an effect. He laced his fingers through Sniper's hair and let him lead the slick and sensual dance in his mouth.

Their tongues went in a slow massage, one that teased, between smiling lips, their eyes closed to focus on their other senses. 

They both enjoyed the night for as long as it lasted. They loved each other and wouldn't dream of spending their nights any other way than with each other.


	103. Pub date

"Fine, go for a pub…" The Frenchman grumbled. "But next time, please let it be in a restaurant."

Sniper parked the van. They had agreed to spend the evening together but hadn't decided on a place in advance, which led them to spend their time in the van arguing as Sniper drove to town. 

The sun was gently setting in the distance as they entered the bar. Both mercenaries sat face to face at the end of the pub. It was a noisy place but they managed to find a corner of peace. 

A waiter came and they placed an order. Beers to start with. They soon landed in front of them. 

"Why not a picnic somewhere quiet next time?" 

"Oh Bushman, you can't expect me to accept this, can you?" 

"Well, at least I tried." 

They both downed their beer quite fast. The summer was hot and the long drive in the camper van had made them thirsty. The second round of beers soon came. 

"And what tells you there'll be a next time, eh?" Sniper asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Quite simply, because you enjoy my company, Sniper. I could even wager that you enjoy it more than you could admit." 

Spy wiggled his eyebrows as he saw his friend's eyes part from him. The Australian blushed and lowered his head, carding his hair back and mumbling to himself. He was too shy to agree. 

"So tell me a story, Bushman." 

"A story?" 

Another pint landed in front of them.

"You are a hunter. I bet you have lived quite the adventures."

"Well yeah, so there's this one time I worked to get some dingoes down and ended up with a bloody crocodile!"

"A crocodile?!" 

"Yeah, I swear, it was massive! Let me tell you how it all started, you'll see, it's quite funny. So picture this, I was in the desert and…"

Spy propped his head on his hands, resting his elbows on the table. He liked that his friend opened up more. He listened carefully and chuckled from time to time. 

"You're a very poor liar, Sniper."

"Whot?!" 

The alcohol was getting to them and they were past tipsy now.

"I can read you like an open book, even when I'm drunk like this." The French accent sung in the Australian's ear and he enjoyed the music of it. 

"You asked me for a story. You never said it had to be true…!"

"Correct." He answered in French, the 'r's purring from the back of his throat. 

Sniper's eyebrows ever so slightly twitched and Spy saw it. 

"You'll have to teach me how to lie then, Spook."

"Gladly. There is a lot to do but in time I am sure you can fool a few people." 

"Oi! Are you sayin' I'm shite at lying?!" 

The Frenchman nodded with the most smug smile. 

"Yes indeed, I am. But if you think you can fool me, go ahead and try your luck. Tell me something and I'll tell you if you're lying or not."

"Roight… uhm…" 

Their glasses were empty. They vanished and new ones landed on the table. 

"My mum hates cats." 

"Lie." 

"Argh, roight… Uhm…" Sniper scratched his head. "I hate wine." 

"Lie." 

"Christ's sake… How d'you do it…? Uhm…" 

Sniper raised his eyes to his friend. He couldn't say it of course, but seeing the Frenchman's smirk was a delight to his eyes. He stared for a second and softened under the icy-blue eyes. 

"I hate you." He half whispered.

"Very poor lie, Bushman." 

They both bent over the small table, their faces were a few inches apart and they stared at each other's eyes. Light blue, almost grey versus lagoon blue. 

"I… I like yer eyes."

"Truth, and I yours." 

"C-can I try? Tell me somethin' and I'll tell you if you're lyin'." 

"Fine." Spy's smile widened as his eyelids fell halfway through his eyes. "You want to tell me something but you are holding it back." 

"Y-yeah, might be true." 

"You wanted to take me to a picnic to tell me about it."

"Yeah, truth." 

"You don't know how to tell me." 

"Yeah."

"But Sniper, what if you showed me instead?" He raised a daring eyebrow. 

"W-what?" 

"Come on, try, I don't bite. Or not in public at least. And look around, no one is near us."

Sniper's face turned as red as a brick.

"Y-you sure?" 

Spy nodded. 

"Alroight…" Sniper brushed his sweaty hands on his thighs and slowly moved closer to the Frenchman's face. He closed his eyes, hearing his heart pounding in his temples when-

"Sp-hm!" 

The Frenchman put his hand behind the Australian's head and pulled him in for a kiss. Their lips collapsed as the taste of the beer blended with that of the menthol cigarettes. Sniper didn't know what to do with his hands and the first thing that came to his mind was to grab his lover by the collar of his jacket. The Frenchman hummed in a satisfied way. 

They parted. 

"Shall we go back to your van? We'll be more at ease." 

Sniper's pupils were wide. He smiled. 

"Y-yeah, please." 


	104. Sniper's knife

"Y-yeah Dad, thanks. Yeah, I'm sure I'll receive it whenever I can but it'll take time. Thanks anyway. How's Mum? Can you put her on the phone?" 

Sniper was used to those weekly phone calls but that day was special. He was getting older. 

The Australian wasn't a man to like parties with a lot of people around him. If he was in Australia, he would have celebrated the occasion with his parents. His mum would have baked a cake, he would have shared a beer with his dad, and that would be it. 

But he was far from home, so the phone would have to do. There was a payphone not too far from the base and the sun wasn't too hot that day, so he decided to walk to it, leaving his van on the base. 

"Hey Mum…! Yeah, been a while, I know… Yeah sorry… Oh ya remembered? Thanks. Yeah, nah, I don't think I'll do anythin'. J-just the usual evenin' in the van, some music and a good beer. Mh-hm, yeah, miss you too." 

The conversations were usually as long as his parents were asking questions. Sniper wasn't the talkative type, even with his own parents and despite the love he had for them. But he treasured the time he spent with them, may it be on the phone or face to face. 

Soon, he hung up and looked around him. Funny how one second he could almost picture himself in his homeland with his parents but now, as soon as the sound of their voices cut short, he realised he was actually alone in the orange desert, only split by the grey asphalt. Sniper sighed and walked back to the base. 

Not much happened that day. He was on washing up duty, so he did that. He had gone to see Medic too, for that nasty cut the enemy Spy had done on his cheek, which respawn did not fix for some reason. He was happy to learn that it wasn't anything to worry about. 

Sniper put a hand on his cheek and touched it. The scar was still there. He grumbled to himself. Not that he cared much about it, but it just added to the number of scars and wounds that his skin will remember longer than his own memory. 

He hadn't done much that day yet the day had flown by and he found himself in his van, the sun setting gently. He was sitting on the small ledge that was the step to get at the van's back. There was a gentle breeze and the temperature was perfect. He sipped on his beer gently. The van's backdoor was open and he had some music playing to distract his thoughts and fill the silence.

The sky's orange was diluted to pink and red in the horizon. The few cacti who dared grow in the desert stood proudly saluting the setting sun. 

Sniper sighed. He was used to living alone and going through that special day alone too but there always was that small pinching of the heart that he could not completely drive away. It stayed and stung continuously. The more he thought about it, the more it hurt. 

_ Bah… _

He shook his head. 

Neither the first nor the last time that this happened. Sniper lifted his beer to his lips.

Ugh.

It was empty. He made an annoyed face and fell in his thoughts again until-

"Ahem." 

Sniper raised his head. 

"Bonsoir, Sniper." [Good evening, Sniper.]

"Hm." 

"Enjoying the view, are we?" 

Sniper nodded. 

"What d'you want, Spy?" 

"Care for a beer?" 

The Frenchman had two bottles of beer in his hand. 

"May I?" 

Sniper slid on the slim ledge to make some space for his colleague. Spy opened his jacket and lifted his trousers elegantly to sit down next to his colleague. He took his blade out and the bottle caps flew. 

"Thanks." 

"It's nothing. Sniper?" 

The Australian turned his head to look at his colleague. He was lifting his beer for him to tip it. The colours of the sky painted the Frenchman's face in warmer and softer colours. 

"Oh…" 

They tipped their beers and Sniper put the bottle to his lips. 

"Happy birthday." 

He nearly spat the beer out. 

"H-how do you know?" 

Spy smirked, raising an eyebrow. 

"A better question would be 'how would I not know'? I am the Spy, I just do know."

"Fair enough… Thanks though."

Both stared at the shades of orange and red in the distance.

"Didn't know you were the beer type. Thought you'd prefer wine."

"Correct. Although today is not my but your day, and you prefer beer." 

"That's nice of ya." 

"You sound almost surprised."

"Didn't figure you could…"

"Be nice?" Spy finished his question for him and Sniper got embarrassed. 

"I-I don't mean it in a bad way… It's just-"

"I know what you mean." The Frenchman took a sip himself. "I can be nice, just not to everyone."

Sniper felt privileged to be part of those few people. 

"And that beer you brought us is quite good, it's a famous Australian brand." 

"I am glad you appreciate it. I did go to town today to get it, hoping you would like it as a touch of your homeland that I try to offer you. Although I did not just come with it." 

Sniper's eyebrow jumped up. 

"Here, and again, happy birthday to you, Sniper. I hope you will forgive the absence of cake and please don't ask me to sing." 

The Australian smiled. Where Spy had got that box from, God only knew. But it was wrapped in a blue satin paper, with a white ribbon. It was as big as a book, maybe a bit bigger. 

"Oh… C-can I open it?" 

"Please do." 

The Australian put the beer down and unlaced the ribbon. He delicately undid the wrapping paper and opened the box. 

"Oh… Such a beaut'..." 

Sniper put his fingers on the blade lying in the box. It had a wooden handle, finely carved with motifs that looked like curly leaves and branches lacing their way all around it. The metal blade itself was larger than a kitchen knife but smaller than a kukri. Sniper took it in his hand and hunched his back to observe it more keenly. 

His eyes snapped wide. He noticed the small capital 'M' at the base of the blade. 

"Why an M?" He asked. 

"What's your name?" Spy answered and saw his colleague blush out of his mind. 

"H-how did you know I like knives?" 

The Frenchman lit a cigarette and smiled. 

"Are you again asking me how I know something?"

Sniper smiled back and his shoulders sank back down. 

"Thank you, mate. It's gorgeous." He played with it on his fingers but clumsy as he was, the blade slipped and fell. Spy caught it mid-fall and made it spin effortlessly around his fingers before folding the blade in the wooden handle and handing it back to his friend. 

"Ah, thanks… Y-you're good with blades." 

The Frenchman smiled. 

"So I'm told. Some even say it's my job description." 

Both chuckled as the last rays of sunlights dived under the horizon. 

"Nah, really. Thanks Spy." 

The man in the suit saw his friend put the blade in his sleeveless jacket pocket, where the bullets usually sit. 

"My pleasure, my friend." 

"A-am I?" Sniper asked. 

"Oui, I would even dare say you are the one I prefer here." 

"Oh…" Sniper lowered his head to hide his blush. His heart woke up fast. He nearly gasped when Spy put his hand on his hand and tapped lightly. 

"I wanted to bake a cake." 

"Wait, really?" 

Spy nodded. 

"What happened?" 

"Then I remembered the wild kangaroo that you are would surely prefer a beer, maybe in my company?"

"Y-yeah, nah, I mean, cake would have been great but…"

"But?" 

"I mean… Anythin's fine as long as I share it with you." 

Those two last words he had barely managed to whisper. He was shy and uncomfortable but now that was done, the words were out there. Sniper didn't even dare look Spy in the eye. 

The Frenchman smiled softly. He slid closer to his friend still and Sniper felt it. Their thighs were touching, their arms too, and Spy's gloved hand on his thigh…

Oh and to hell with it!

The Australian leaned his head on his friend's shoulder and melted down. His eyelids slowly fell on his eyes and his smile grew wide. 

Wait - did Spy just kiss his head?


	105. Night Club

Sniper rolled the window down a bit for the cigarette smoke to diffuse out. The trickling of the rain soothed them both. 

"What happened today, Sniper?"

"Hm?"

"How did we come to lose all our matches?" 

"I don't know… Maybe you didn't stab enough backs…"

Spy's eyebrow twitched. 

"Or maybe you didn't shoot enough heads…!"

Sniper's head turned in a flash.

"Oi! I had the enemy Spy on my back all the bloody time!"

"And the enemy Pyro was washing the field with flames!"

Spy exhaled the smoke of his cigarette. 

"We've all been doing excellently, hm?" 

Sniper saw his sarcastic smile and grinned. 

"Yeah, guess so." He paused and rolled his window shut. "The rain is too loud now, can't hear the music, even with the window open."

"Hm, it looks like you're condemned to hear the rain, and maybe my voice." 

The Frenchman gave his friend a smug grin. Sniper's heart skipped a beat.  _ His voice. _

"Yeah well…" The Australian thought fast, he wanted to answer something, anything, as long as the silence didn't settle awkwardly. His eyes darted outside. The rain was pouring. "And you're stuck here with me, unless you want to get soakin' wet."

Spy's eyebrows jumped and his head turned at the Australian. He had been bold, very bold for his standards, and the poor man knew it. Spy bit his lip to hold back his laughter, not because what his colleague said was funny. It's the red in his cheeks, his awkward grumbling to himself, trying to hide behind his aviator glasses, burying himself deeper in his seat.

"You are right, Sniper. It is raining, ah, what's the phrase in English again? Dogs and cats, some other animals?" 

The Australian chuckled. 

"Nah, it's the other way around, it's 'cats and dogs'."

"Merci, as I was saying, it's raining cats and dogs. And I don't want to ruin my suit so I'm afraid I am stuck here indeed."

The Frenchman pushed his seat back and laid his legs straight, one on top of the other. 

"What if it rains all night?" Sniper asked. 

The Frenchman half smiled arrogantly. 

"What do you think, Bushman? What would you do in my stead?" 

"Oh, uh I don't know…"

"I don't want to weigh on you or impose anything." Spy said.

"I think I'd uh… I'd stay." 

"Really?" 

Sniper started sweating. He meant it as a way to suggest to his friend to stay, maybe, just to see if the Frenchman would want to. 

"Well, I-I mean yer suit's very fancy and expensive and uh… I understand you don't want to ruin it."

"Hm, so you'd be ready to bear my presence for the sake of my suit?" Spy said with irony. 

Silence fell and Spy could almost hear Sniper's heartbeat from his seat. The Frenchman knew he wouldn't get an answer. 

_ "Deux étrangers qui se rencontrent, dans l'ascenseur déjà, le désir monte." _

_ [Two strangers who meet. In the lift already, the desire rises.] _

Sniper's eyes snapped wide. Spy was… singing? His voice was very soothing, quite breathy and very soft.

_ "Deux étrangers qui se rencontrent stoppant leur course contre la montre, seuls, tous seuls au bout du monde." _

_ [Two strangers who meet, stopping their race against time, alone, both alone at the end of the world.] _

The Australian stared at his friend. He didn't know he could sing and if at first Spy was quite prude - he almost looked like he tried to remember how to sing - the Frenchman melted in the romance he was singing. Sniper watched as his eyebrows arched up, his eyes closing at the end of a verse, his hands rose to direct the orchestra that was before the eyes of his mind, asking them to play pianissimo, and his voice would lower down. Sometimes he would sing louder, his voice going slightly hoarse, he would clench his gloved fist, lay his other hand flat on his chest and let his emotions invade him and escape. 

Sniper was speechless. Seeing the unfazed masked man let his emotions show was a seizing display. Whatever the lyrics meant, Sniper could clearly see that Spy felt them. The Aussie did not understand that the story was about two strangers meeting, sharing a glass and a cigarette, then giving in to what they wanted to do but half hid… 

Spy looked at his friend on the driver's seat when he finished. 

"I'm afraid this is the voice you are stuck with, Sniper, and judging by the amount of rain, you might hear it more."

"Spy…"

Sniper's eyes were opened wide, and his pupils too, like a cat in the dark. 

"I can sing in English, if you'd prefer to understand the lyrics, or in other languages."

"Wait, what, hold on, wait…" 

"Hm?"

"Your voice?"

"What about it?" Spy looked Sniper in the eye and saw his pupils shimmer shyly. 

"It's… I didn't know you could sing like that."

"Oui, nobody does." 

"Why?" 

"We have an expression in French, or rather a joke. We say that if someone sings badly, it will rain."

"Then stop singing so well." 

Spy realised that his friend was devouring him with his eyes, breathing deeply, his heart beating hard. 

"Do you want the rain to continue pouring all night?" The Frenchman asked. 

"If… If… I mean if you really don't want to ruin your suit and stay here, I mean uh, why not…?"

Spy's smile was oh so soft. It made the shy, clumsy Aussie man melt on his seat. He lowered his head, the blush blurring his vision until he felt something soft under his chin. It was Spy's finger pushing his face up. When Sniper's eyes met the Frenchman's, their faces were a few inches apart. He averted his gaze, the icy blue eyes of the man in the suit who now held his chin were too piercing. Sniper felt ashamed as if he had been naked. His eyes darted up. Spy's gaze wasn't on the lagoon blue eyes of the man in front of him, they were lower… 

"I accept your offer, Sniper." He said, half whispering. The waves of air brushed the Australian's face softly. They smelled of his cigarette. 

"Uh, S-Spy… I-I… Can I…? I mean…"

"Oui..."

They closed the gap. It was a question that had needed an answer for a long time and that night, they took the time to answer it with everything but words.


	106. Night Club 2

"Hm…" 

Sniper had finally found some space to park his van. That day, his team had lost all their matches and it made his mood quite foul. He pulled the handbrake grumpily and switched the engine off. 

_ "Bugger…"  _ He muttered in his breath.

He undid his seatbelt and sighed, letting his shoulders sink. His eyes wandered through the windshield in front of him. The sun had gone long ago. The lamp posts lit the long streets like comas punctuate a sentence; the orange light they shed splitting the dark blue of the night. Other cars were parked in a line in front and - he quickly glanced in his rear view mirror - behind him too. He frowned and stared. 

In front of him was parked a bright red Italian car. The license plate was foreign too. Sniper could not understand that, the need for an expensive, bright-coloured car. Why would anyone need that…?

A noise broke his train of thought.

"Hm?" 

Sniper looked through the window. The muffled sound came from the building he was parked in front of. Actually, it wasn't a sound, it was music. He had parked in front of some sort of night club. He closed his eyes and pricked his ears up. Jazz? Yes, it was jazz music. It took him a few seconds before he tapped the rhythm on his steering wheel.

Music knew how he felt. A bit lonely, very grumpy, maybe a bit distraught. He leaned back and his eyes stayed on the night club's door. A few people disappeared in and others came out. 

Sniper wished he could get in and enjoy the music better. Muffled noises were good but the proper thing was better… But it was too much noise, the racket of people's discussions, their words shooting left and right, trying to get heard on top of the music…

_ Ugh… _

The Australian put his fingers on his temples. The mere thought of it gave him headaches. He lightly shook his head and pulled his seat further back, to lay his legs straight. He leaned back on his seat. Nah, he shall enjoy the music from the comfort and safety of his van, his eyes dreamy, half closed. 

_ Knock, knock. _

"Huh?!" 

The noise startled him on his seat. Someone had knocked on his window. He turned his head and saw -

"What?!" 

He rolled his window down. 

"What are  _ you _ doing here?" He asked to the man standing on the other side of the door. 

"I could ask you the same question, Bushman. May I? The evening is getting colder."

The Australian nodded rolling his window shut, and the man in the balaclava went around the van and climbed on the passenger's seat. 

"How did you find me here?" Sniper asked. 

"Are you asking  _ me,  _ the best spy you know, how I found you?" 

Sniper smiled. 

"I saw you on the reflection of my rear view mirror." Spy said, looking straight in front of him. 

Sniper followed his gaze to see the red Italian car. 

"W-what? That car is yours?" He asked. 

Spy nodded. 

"Oui. I had come to town to buy more cigarettes. The Mann Co. ones disgust me." 

The Australian's lips pursed in a smile. 

"And you, what are you doing here?" The Frenchman asked. 

"Oh, uh, I-I don't know. After work, I wanted to take a break, see somethin' else so I drove to town."

"And you parked here because…?"

"What's this? A bloody interrogation?"

"Non, I am merely asking why you stayed in your van."

"Why would I get out of it? Where would I go?"

The Frenchman smiled. 

"Until I knocked on your window, you looked absorbed in the music. So my question is why are you here rather than  _ inside?" _

Sniper lowered his head and shook it. Ah, Spy had to be clever…

"I don't like the noise. It's too much." 

"Should I understand that even if  _ I _ asked you to follow me, you would refuse?" 

The Australian blushed but thanks to the darkness of the night, he thought his colleague hadn't seen it. 

"Fair enough. I understand. I, myself, don't like crowded places either." 

Silence fell between the two men. 

"Oh…?" 

Raindrops hit the windshield and splattered it slowly, and refracted the orange light from the lamp post, transforming the windshield in a constellation of scintillating, liquid stars. 

"Cigarette?" 

Sniper turned to face his colleague. He had opened his cigarette case and was extending it to the Australian. 

"Oh, uh thanks." 

"I'm afraid that with the rain, we are condemned to stay in your van and enjoy the music from here." 

"Guess so." 

"What a shame…" Spy said, putting his cigarette case back in his inner pocket. "Or maybe it isn't?"

Sniper's eyes darted to the Frenchman. He took a puff of his cigarette and the orange glow of it revealed his light blue eyes… and his smile. 


	107. Dinner date

Poor him, he was anxious. Sniper had walked in the restaurant and asked for his table. The waiter was surprised to see him half an hour early but the table was free, so he obliged. 

The Australian sat down and looked around him. Clients were sitting here and there enjoying their food while he was paralysed on his seat. 

It was the first time that he came to such a fancy place. The floor was tiled and the walls covered in panes of blue velvet curtains. He had got his old suit from the cupboard for the occasion. It was a beige linen one with matching trousers that he wore with a white polo shirt below the jacket. He realised now that it was his best shot at being elegant, but it clearly wasn't enough...

Hot, it was too hot. He was sweating. A waiter came and he managed to gather enough courage to ask for a glass of water. He removed his jacket, putting it on the back of his chair and his eyes fell on the menu. 

_ Oh for Christ's sake… _

It was in French. 

Spy parked his car a couple of meters away from there. He stopped the engine and looked at his watch. He had asked Mundy to be there in what would be now in five minutes. Perfect timing. He looked in his inner rear view mirror. The bowtie was straight and his teeth were clean. The Frenchman did one last thing before exiting his car and entering the restaurant. 

Sniper's foot was tapping the floor repeatedly. He should have sat down facing the restaurant door, that way he would have seen his friend arrive…! Or maybe it was better not to see him come from far away, it could be awkward, surely? He wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers and his eyes read the menu again for the thousandth time. 

"Bonsoir." 

His head flashed up from the menu. 

"Hey, uh, I'm sorry this seat's taken, mate." 

"I know, it is taken by me." 

The man in the satin blue suit and matching bowtie sat down in front of the Australian.

"Look mate," The Australian found it slightly offensive that a stranger just came around and took his friend's seat! "I don't know who the hell you think you are but that seat's taken by my  _ friend _ and that's that. Now go ask for another table 'fore I get angry." 

The man in front of him had salt and pepper hair, impeccably combed back with the exception of a few streak of lighter grey hair falling on his forehead. He shook his head with a smile. 

"Pray describe that friend of yours to me." 

"What?" 

"Evidently you don't see him here so I am not stealing his seat. Let's take those few minutes to have a chat. You have been sitting here all alone. Take this as a distraction."

"For the love of… Ugh, fine… I guess I don't have anythin' else to do." Mundy put the menu down and leaned back in his chair. "He's a man, a foot or so shorter than me, quite slim… Uh, he's French and a bit posh…"

The stranger in front of him kept a smirk on his lips.

"What about his face?"

"Well, don't know much about it. He has to wear a mask for work. But he's got thin lips, a slim nose, a smooth jawline and very light blue eyes." Mundy paused for a split second. "A bit like yours actually…" 

The man on the chair opposite him wiggled his eyebrows. 

" _ A bit  _ like me?" He repeated. 

Mundy squinted and frowned. 

"Yeah actually he - oh my God, Spook, is that you?!" 

The Frenchman chuckled and took his cigarette case out, lit one up and put it between his lips. 

"Oh I'm sorry I didn't recognise you, you don't have yer mask on!"

Mundy stared more and more, trying to imagine the mask on top of the face he saw. 

"Oui, it is me, Bushman. It took you quite a while to figure it out." 

The Australian was amazed. His colleague looked as handsome as he pretended to be. Of course he knew most of the distinctive features of his face but discovering his hair too was a surprise. He clearly had spent some time to arrange it and it was perfect, absolutely perfect. Even the rebel front tuft falling on his brow was poetry...

"I'm sorry you just look… Different." 

Spy took the menu and read through it. 

"How so?" He asked, his eyes on the selection of French dishes. "And pray have a look and make your choice." 

"Oh I know what I'm gonna take, I had a look before. But uh, yeah, I don't know, you look more…  _ human?" _

Spy raised an eyebrow and a waiter came. Mundy ordered in English, trying to not butcher the name of the food he was having, and listened carefully as his friend placed his order in French. It took a bit more time.

"More human?" Spy said, as the waiter disappeared.

"Y-yeah I mean… Don't take it the wrong way but with a mask it's harder to see you like a normal bloke."

"Says the professional skull piercer…" 

"Ah, well, yeah, I guess you have a point, sorry Spook." 

"Lucien." 

"Uh?" 

"My name, it's Lucien."

Sniper's jaw dropped. He hadn't expected that.

"Oh, uh, I'm Mundy." 

"I know." He answered but before Mundy could say anything, the waiter came with their food. Another came with the wine, poured some to Lucien. The Frenchman tried it and nodded, which signaled the waiter that he could proceed and serve the both of them. 

"Go ahead, please, dig in and let me know what you think. I took the liberty of choosing the wine too. I hope you will appreciate it."

"Hm! That's delicious! Chicken in cream sauce roight?" 

"Oui, blanquette de poulet. I'm glad you like it." 

"What did you take?" 

"Coq au vin, it's chicken in a wine sauce."

"Oh…" Mundy's eyes were trying to understand what Lucien had in his plate.

"Go ahead, try some." The Frenchman pushed his plate towards his friend slightly. 

"W-what? Nah, mate, c'mon, that's yer food, I don't want to-"

"Mundy," Sniper's ears rang strangely at the mention of his name with that particular accent. "I am inviting you tonight for a French dinner, a taste of my country. So please, go ahead."

"You sure?"

The Frenchman smiled and raised an eyebrow. 

"Am I ever in the habit of hesitating or joking?" 

"Alroight, alroight, don't give me that look…" 

Lucien neatly cut a bit of the chicken and pushed some carrots. Mundy's fork hovered for a split second. He felt awfully close to his friend all of a sudden, as if he was doing something forbidden. He quickly took the bit of food and withdrew to his plate. 

"Hm… That's… Uhm, that's very nice too…!" 

"You see? I'm glad you like it. Some people think that our cuisine is pretentious and bland. I beg to differ. Our traditional dishes are very much a thing that farmers can do. We just managed to make it more… uhm… how did you describe me again? Ah! Posh!"

Mundy blushed slightly as if to apologise. Lucien gave him a smile that made him hot.

"And what do you think of the place?" 

"Well, uh, it goes nicely with ya…" 

"Meaning?" The Frenchman insisted.

"It's uh…  _ posh?" _

Lucien rolled his eyes and smiled. 

"No offense, eh?" 

"None taken." 

"Good but uh, yeah it's a very good place I mean… I've never been in a place like this before." 

"Really? Not even once?" 

"Nah. And I look around me and I feel like I'm the weirdo here. I mean, look at all of those blokes wearing super nice suits, look at you! And then look at me…"

Lucien heard the slight shame in Mundy's voice. 

"If your suit is a problem, it can easily be solved." 

"How? You got a spare suit in that cigarette case o'yours?"

Lucien chuckled. 

"You are deliciously ridiculous, Mundy. Non, next time you need a suit, you may ask me. I can lend you one, or we can think about buying something new. I would be glad to offer my help." 

"Ah, thanks. I uh, these are actually my nicest clothes. I don't have anythin' better than that. I wanted to dress up nice but eh… Guess  _ my  _ nice isn't enough next to  _ yours… _ "

A waiter came and took the empty plates away. 

"Dessert?" 

Lucien and Mundy's eyes crossed. 

"We will share one." The Frenchman answered and Mundy felt the sweat drip from his brow. 

The waiter left the dessert menus and vanished. 

"What do you like, Mundy?" 

"I'm not picky, whatever you like and wanna, uh, share with me, I guess it's fine." 

The Frenchman smiled. A few moments later a waiter came and Lucien placed their order. For what? God only knows, Mundy didn't manage to understand what the Frenchman settled for. 

"What did you choose?" 

"You will see. But let me come back to something you said. Mundy, you look very elegant in this suit and very different from your usual self. I can see the effort that you have made for the occasion and I deeply appreciate it." 

"You say that just to make me feel better." 

"Non." 

Their eyes met and never left each other's. 

"I mean it Mundy. White brings out your skin tone, I like it. And this light beige?" Mundy felt something on his hand, something warm. "It makes your eyes stand out even more. It's such a shame that you wear your glasses all the time. I am sure that what you hide is delightful for the eyes, for my eyes." 

Mundy lowered his head. The blush was getting to him. While doing so, he looked at his hand and silently gasped. The Frenchman's naked fingers were on his. Without adding a word and his head still low, the Australian removed his glasses and put them on the edge of the table. He didn't dare raise his eyes until the waiter came with the dessert. Mundy pulled his hand quickly and blushed in shame. What if the waiter had seen them, hand on hand? Indecent! 

The waiter disappeared.

"It's a dessert based on caramel apples." The Frenchman said, breaking the silence. 

Mundy was still trying to digest the wave of shame that swept across his body. 

"Do you know what we call caramel apples in French?" 

Mundy raised his eyes slowly. Of course he didn't know. 

" _ Pomme d'amour,  _ do you know what it means?" 

The Australian, his cheeks still red, shook his head. 

"It means  _ apple of love." _

Mundy's face went blank. The Frenchman gave him such a sweet and honest smile. He had never seen that face before and he had never seen that soft smile either.

Lucien opened his palm on the table like a wordless question, his fair blue, almost grey eyes shining and his eyebrows punctuating it like a question mark. 

The Australian sighed. There was no point refusing. He had wanted it himself, a lot. He lifted his hand and placed it on the Frenchman's. 

_ "Tes yeux sont magnifiques, Mundy." _

_ [Your eyes are magnificent, Mundy.] _

Spy closed his hand on Sniper's, his fingers wrapping his friend's to safety and privacy.

"Yours are amazing too, Lucien." 

The Frenchman's eyes opened wide.

"You understood me?" 

"How did you think I managed to choose my food? The menu's in bloody French!" 


End file.
